Emotions Unaccounted For
by lookupatthesky
Summary: Gabriella was just going out to dinner with her grandparents. It was like any other day. Then fate walked in - or, more precisely, Troy Bolton did. And that set off a series of events she couldn't stop even if she tried. West vs. East High fic. Troyella.
1. Trailer

**Disclaimer:** I only own the AU plot, nothing else.

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author:** Steph

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note:** Okay, this is the first trailer I've done, so just be honest about it. The first chapter's done, so if I get positive reviews I'll post it tomorrow or the day after.

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_Italics: images_

**Bold: narrator**

Regular: characters speaking (taken directly from the story); the character named is the one speaking.

Background music: _Half Alive_ by Secondhand Serenade

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**Trailer:**

_Half Alive_ starts to play - it fades out when the narrator or character speak, but is louder when there is no current speaker.

_Opens with Troy Bolton standing in the center of a group of laughing people in a school hallway, his face an emotionless mask._

**On the outside, Troy Bolton had the perfect life. He had everything he could ever desire.**

_Shows a bored Troy out partying with his basketball friends and cheerleaders._

_Now Troy's looking down at Gabriella - their on a couch and his arm is wrapped around her._

Troy: I'm like the puppeteer. I pull the strings, and people do what I want – like they're my puppets. I stay behind the curtain, but everyone knows I'm there. It's just the way I like it.

**Until the only thing interesting enough to get his attention, **

_Flashes to Gabriella, sitting against a tree and engrossed in a book, wearing a West High sweatshirt._

**Ended up being the one thing he wasn't supposed to want.**

_Shows Troy and Gabriella standing in a book store, with him smirking at her and Gabriella eyeing him suspiciously._

Troy: You're Gabriella Montez.

Gabriella: And that's not turning you off of me?

Troy: Surprisingly, no.

_Flashes to Troy and Gabriella, kissing passionately as they're lying fully clothed on top of Troy's bed, him on top of her._

_Changes again to Troy and Gabriella, with her screaming and Troy just standing there staring at her as they stand in her bedroom._

Gabriella: What the _hell _is so interesting about me, Troy Bolton? Cause whatever it is, _I don't see it_.

**Now, Troy has to navigate feelings he's never felt before.**

_Gabriella's wrapped in Troy's arms as they stand under a tree._

Troy: We can do this – no one has to know. I'll go as fast or slow as you want.

_Gabriella is snuggling into Troy as they sit on her couch, his arm wrapped around her._

Troy: I'm different around you – I don't act like this around everyone else.

_Shows Troy glaring at his friends, who are all looking fearfully at him._

Troy: Just back off, alright? This is my life and I can do what I want!

**Sometimes, in love and war, you have to fight against the odds,**

_Sharpay's standing in front of Troy, one hand on her hip and the other holding her cell phone. _

Sharpay: We need to talk, Troy.

_The scene changes to Ryan, frowning down at a picture in his hands._

**To get what you were meant to have all along.**

_Reveals Gabriella sitting on her kitchen counter in Troy's button-up shirt, with a clothed Troy standing in between her legs and grinning down at her._

_Shows Zeke, Sharpay, and Troy standing in a room, Troy staring at a picture in his hands._

Troy: Who else knows?

Zeke: It's just us – you're secret's safe. We won't say a word about the Montez girl.

_The scene changes to Gabriella, sobbing uncontrollably and trying to fight Troy as he wraps his arms around her._

_Flashes again to Zeke grinning widely at Troy as they stand in Zeke's kitchen, cooking something._

Zeke: You really like this girl, don't you?

Troy: No, I love her.

_Fades Out._

Gabriella: People look at me, you know – but they don't see me.

Troy: I see you.

**Coming soon.**


	2. First Glance

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot, Raleigh, and Vincent.

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**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **There are a few things I need to say before the fic starts - so, in advance, I would like to apologize for the long A/N. I know most of you prolly won't read it, but whatever.

**1.** I would like to say that, because I am starting high school on Friday at a boarding school, although I am a day student I can assume school will take up a lot of my time. So, basically, I have no idea how long it will take me to update. Chapters may be short and frequent, or longer but much farther in-between. I'll really have to see how the first days of school go. So, just bear with me.

**2.** There is quite a large possibility that this will be split into two or three stories, especially if I make the chapters shorter but update more often. I'll warn you before hand. Either way, I already have a vague idea for a companion, knowing what the ending will be like. I just have to figure out how long it will take to get to the ending... easier said then done. 

**3.** You should know that there's also a possiblily that the rating will turn to M. If you think it needs to before I do change it, just tell me in a review or PM me at any time. Basically, I'm not sure how 'into it' I'm going to get. If the rating does change, I'll tell you where the more explicit scenes start and end, so you can easily skip over them.

**4.** I'm still not sure about how I'm going to work in Chaylor. There might not be any, because Chad and Taylor aren't dominant characters (you'll be seeing lots more of Sharpay and Zeke, hence some Zekepay). Anyways, please review to tell me what you think of Chaylor. I could do none, have them already be together - with Taylor as well as Chad attending East High. Another possibility is to have Taylor be Gabriella's friend from West High, and then she and Chad meet through Troy and Gabriella. If you have a strong opinion, do share.

**5.** This story starts out slow in the first chapter, but the second and third pick up the pace quite a bit. I don't have an exact outline, but I do have a rough idea. The just of this is to not give up just cause the first chapter has no action. I can guarantee Troy will make a move in the next chapter. From the 1st chapter, I'm sure you'll be able to tell vaguely how they're going to meet. Or maybe it's not as obvious as I think it is, I dunno. Anyways, sorry for the long A/N - I tend to get carried away a lot. Just enjoy now, and please review! I try to answer each review individually, so just yell at me if I got yours mixed up. I've never had so many reviews before! Thanks so much!

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**Chapter 1: First Glance**

_  
I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
and I'm the only one and I walk alone  
I walk alone, I walk alone. I walk alone, I walk a..._

_My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone_

_-Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Green Day_

Troy Bolton frowned down at his phone, which was vibrating dangerously close to the edge of the table he was sitting at. He knew who was calling – the only person who would call him five consecutive times and still not get the hint that Troy didn't want to talk.

Truth be told, he didn't really want to talk to anyone lately. He hadn't wanted to go anywhere, see any of his friends. Actually, he never really wanted to talk to his friends – Troy just hadn't complained about it before then. He had always just put up with them. But his patience seemed to be running thinner and thinner, so that he couldn't even seem to bring himself to tolerate their presence. So, in order to avoid them, Troy had settled into a rather monotonous schedule – wake up, go to work, avoid going home, get home, practice basketball, go to bed.

"Troy, uh, your lunch break's over. Time to get back to work," a voice stuttered from behind him. Not even bothering to turn around, Troy nodded and waved the person away – he could tell by the nervous voice that it was his manager, Greg Norton. Greg was a no-nonsense senior, but Troy knew that Greg was afraid of him. Hell, everyone was.

At sixteen, Troy Bolton was easily the most powerful and intimidating student at East High. Though he was only going into his junior year, Troy was already the playmaker of the school's Varsity basketball team, desired by almost all of the school's female population (and some of the male population as well), and looked up to by even those older then him.

It did help that his father was the students' favorite English teacher, and that he was probably the best basketball player to enter the school since even before his father had attended. But the rest of his reputation had been painstakingly built up. Troy knew going into his freshman year what he wanted, and that was for no one to bother him. And so anyone who did, he destroyed, whether it be physically or in a mental round-about way.

That was the one thing few people expected of Troy – that he would be smart as well as athletic. True, Troy wasn't in any AP classes, but that was out of choice. He _did _take all honors courses and prided himself on being much more knowledgeable and perceptive then people first thought.

Nodding shortly to Greg, Troy didn't even bother to give a verbal response. He merely straightened his tie – though Troy fully appreciated the fact that by working at a more expensive restaurant he was procuring larger tips and a larger hourly salary, he violently despised the mandatory uniform – and strode leisurely out the kitchen door.

The restaurant was just starting to get its daily lunch-time rush, and Troy couldn't help but dread the day ahead of him. Eyeing all of the full tables, he made his way up to the entrance to the restaurant, where a brunette hostess about his age was speaking to a couple.

Walking up behind her, Troy asked casually, "Ral, what's up with my tables?"

Hardly sparing her friend a glance, Raleigh Cross frowned down at the seating chart in front of her and said, "Um, most of them are empty, luckily – table three has a group of four, number six has a couple, and both two and five are being cleaned up by the busboy. Oh, and this couple is going to table one."

Raleigh gestured over to the husband and wife waiting in front of them. Nodding curtly, Troy said formally, "If you'd just follow me…" Then, before walking away, he added off-handedly to Raleigh, "Oh, and have fun on your date with Ryan tonight. three months, right?"

"Yep!" Raleigh replied, unable to hide her eagerness. "Jason isn't too happy – he's going a bit overboard on the big brother gag, but I think he's just happy it's Ryan, you know?"

Troy nodded absent-mindedly, robotically leading the couple to their table and giving them the same speech he gave to all of the other customers. Then, after listing off the specials and procuring a set of menus, he turning around to face table three. There, what seemed to be an elderly couple with their granddaughter sat, sipping their drinks.

His eyes immediately pinpointed the girl, who seemed to be his age. With wide brown eyes and beautiful dark curls that accented her Filipino skin, she was easily one of the more beautiful girls Troy had seen, though probably not the prettiest. Still, there was a glimmer in her eyes and a sparkle about her, even as she sat back and listened half-heartedly to her grandparents.

Troy blinked, tearing his eyes away from the girl and saying smoothly yet languidly, "Are you ready to order?"

The two grandparents looked up as Troy politely interrupted their conversation, smiling at him and ordering their meals. The girl, however, did not hear him. She continued staring into space obliviously until her grandmother touched her on the arm and asked, "Gabriella, dear, do you know what you want?"

The girl, Gabriella, jumped, looking around anxiously until she laid eyes on Troy. He liked her eyes – they were wide, and he could read them like a book. It was rather amusing to watch the confusion flit through them, followed by bewilderment and then shock as her eyes met his electric blue ones. Troy knew he had surprised Gabriella with his stone hard gaze – it was something he prided himself on, being able to disarm people not only with his physical 'amenities' and words, but also with just one searing look. His eyes held power, and were always as blank and emotionless as his facial expressions.

He didn't blink or look away, even when she did.

She was turning red from embarrassment, and Troy watched, inwardly amused, as she ordered her food quietly, refusing to look him in the eye again. He could hardly blame her for that, though – no one ever looked him in the eye, save for maybe Sharpay or Raleigh, on her good days.

Nodding, he didn't say anything as he returned to the kitchens. As soon as he had given the order to one of the cooks, Zeke Baylor, a friend and fellow employee at the restaurant (which happened to be owned by Zeke's parents) – Troy walked back out, allowing thoughts to overcome his mind.

Gabriella.

Troy liked that name. He never really considered whether he liked a name or not. Names were just names, after all. It wasn't like you had a choice as to what yours was, or what your friends' names were. You just had to know the names and live with them, it didn't make any difference whether you liked them or not. Troy never mulled over things that couldn't be changed.

Despite this, at that moment he decided that Gabriella was a good name – a beautiful name, even, if a name could ever be considered beautiful. He said her name over and over in his mind, loving the way it sounded and wondering if it would sound even better if he said it out loud.

As he took care of his other tables, Troy's thoughts stayed on Gabriella, though it wasn't as if anyone could tell. He acted just as he always did – mechanically, even. He wasn't a love-struck idiot – Troy didn't go over to her table more often then anyone else's and didn't try to chat her up, like other guys would. He didn't even look her in the eye again (although Gabriella was so busy _not_ looking at him he was pretty sure that he wouldn't have been able to do that even if he had wanted to).

Troy _did _do something however – he listened. And that was how he found out that Gabriella's parents were divorced, she hated mushrooms and was allergic to carrots, was on her school's Scholastic Decathlon team, and planned on going to MIT. He learned that Gabriella and her grandparents – who were on her father's side – went out for dinner at least once a month, and that they lived in the city while Gabriella resided less then ten minutes from Troy's house.

Out of everything he learned, however – including the fact that she was single and working weekdays at the local bookstore – the most interesting thing he overheard was said just as Troy was serving the desert.

"So, Gabriella," her grandmother asked, taking a sip of his black coffee, "how's your brother doing? I hear basketball's going well."

"Vincent?" Gabriella asked, and hearing the name Troy almost drop the plate he was carrying, because suddenly it hit him. "He's doing great – keeping busy practicing all of the time and considering colleges. Spencer says if he doesn't lighten up, the entire team's going to mutiny."

As Troy finished putting down the desserts and made his way back to the kitchens, he could hear Gabriella's grandfather say, "That's my boy – always keeping everyone in line-"

Troy didn't hear anything else, too many thoughts were rushing through his head. Vincent Montez was a name he knew well – he was a senior at West High, and their star basketball player. Troy and Vincent were set up to be enemies before then even met, and when they did finally lay eyes on each other, they did not disappoint. Their immediate rivalry was fueled by the fact that West and East High had the two best basketball teams in the district, and therefore had an intense hatred for each other.

This hatred went so far that no one from East High even socialized with West High students. In fact, you were automatically expected to treat anyone West High like scum, even if you didn't know them. West High was no different in their treatment of East High students, however. Often, freshmen and sophomores would be found with bruises and bloody noses, due to Vincent and his friends. And the East High Varsity basketball team would return the actions.

At the head of the rivalry were Vincent and Chad Danforth, who was Troy's best friend by default. Though everyone knew Troy ran the show, and everything basically revolved around him, Chad was the one who was the center of attention. He was the loud, funny, and energetic one – and that made him and Troy a team, whether Troy liked it or not. Though Troy despised Vincent and the entire West High Varsity basketball team, Troy really didn't pay attention to any of the other West High students. They didn't affect his everyday life, so there was no need to pay them any attention. So, it fell to Chad to lead the other haters in their prejudice against the entire student body of West High.

Troy took pride in the fact he knew how to push Vincent to his boiling point – which wasn't difficult at all. Vincent made it painfully obvious that he was jealous of the fact that Troy was such a good basketball player, especially considering Troy was only going to be a junior while Vincent was entering his senior year. West High had won the championships six years running – most of the time by only a one-point difference to East High – until the year before, when Troy became an official starter on the Varsity team.

This hadn't gone over well at all with Vincent, or his mother and coach Gina Montez. As the only boy's Varsity basketball female coach in the district, she had certainly left her mark. Neither her or her son were very pleased when Troy stole their seventh championship, and were exceedingly bitter about it. However, Troy didn't know about Gabriella Montez. Though he knew that Vincent had a sister his age that was named Gabriella, he had never seen the point in meeting her.

And that, Troy decided, was quite possibly the stupidest decision he had ever made.

This belief was only heightened when, as she made to follow her grandparents out of the restaurant, she turned back and smiled uncertainly. Automatically, Troy smiled back. It wasn't a smirk, or condescending smile like the ones he usually sent to people. This smile was completely different – he didn't think he had ever smiled like that before.

Her smile widened, and Troy felt his stomach constrict slightly as waves of happiness coursed through him. Happiness. He didn't get happy very often – and even when he did Troy made a point of never letting it show on the outside. Yet here he was, smiling just like any other guy at a beautiful girl that seemed to have him wrapped around his finger.

What was even stranger was the fact that Troy knew this, and decided that if he had to be wrapped around somebody's finger, he'd rather it be Gabriella's then anyone else's. Even though he had never actually had an actual conversation with her.

What was _wrong_ with him?

Troy Bolton didn't let girls affect him like that. He didn't smile like that, and he most certainly would never let himself get involved with the "enemy". But now seeing Gabriella again sounded rather enticing. More enticing then seeing his friends, or an East High girl, or anyone else in the world, for that matter. This scared Troy more then anything had ever before, partially because he couldn't tell whether he liked these emotions he was feeling or not.

There was no use denying it – there was something special about Gabriella Montez.

And that was why, for the rest of the night, Troy didn't stop thinking about Gabriella. He just couldn't figure out how a girl who, by all means and purposes, he was supposed to hate was able to make him feel so wonderful. Even as he laid in bed that night, he couldn't help but think about her beautiful smile and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle.

In fact, by the time he was ready to drift off to sleep, Troy had decided that Gabriella Montez was definitely the most beautiful girl he had ever met.

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**Okay, so please review to tell me how it was! Concrit is welcome. Another thing that I forgot: there will be NO Sharpay-bashing, because I'm completely against it unless the fic is well-written. So bear that in mind, all of you Sharpay haters. And lovers, for that matter.**


	3. Unperceived Fascination

**Disclaimer: **Well, Troy's still on my birthday list... but right now I still just own Vincent and Raleigh.

-

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **Alrighty, here's the next chapter. It's longer then the first, I think - anyways, the next chapter will have a lot more action/drama if things go as planned. But, then again, I didn't originally intend for this chapter to be this long so you never know. In this chapter, Troy's intentions are definately made clear, and you get an idea of what Sharpay is like. You'll hear more from her in the next chapter, but for now there's at least a taste of her relationship with Troy. So, enjoy and please review! On that note, THANKS for all of the review from the last two posts. I can't believe that many people have read my story ). And there have been tons more story alerts and story favs, so thanks all of you! I know I've already replied to your reviews, but I wanted to say thanks again.

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**Chapter 2: Unperceived Fascination**

_Just can't turn and walk away…_  
_It's hard to say what it is I see in you  
Wonder if I'll always be with you  
Words can't say it, I can't do  
Enough to prove, it's all for you _

_- All For You, Sister Hazel_

That morning, Troy woke up to his cell phone ringing right next to his ear. Jerking into consciousness, he flipped his phone open on the fourth ring. Not, however, before he glanced at the time. Ten o'clock. Wincing, Troy put the phone to his ear and said with an edge to his voice, "What?"

"Dude, you want to shoot some hoops?" the voice of Chad Danforth asked, sounding unnaturally awake. Troy blinked, at first assuming it was some kind of joke. But, no, that was definitely his best friend's voice on the other line.

Blinking away the last of his sleep, Troy replied, "Jeez, Chad, it's summer. You usually sleep until one in the _afternoon_, remember?"

"Yeah, well, Lucy woke me up a few minutes ago – apparently I'm babysitting. Anyways, you can still come over. I can call Jason, too. And Zeke," Chad said, brushing off Troy's comment. As Chad said this, Troy reluctantly got up, still wearing only his boxers.

Not bothering to put anything else on, he started walking out of his room and down the stairs while replying, "Later, man – I'll be over around two."

He didn't bother to ask whether it was okay or not, because Chad would never refuse him. Maybe Chad's parents would, but never Chad himself. In their relationship as friends, Troy always had the upper hand. Both of them knew it – and the funny thing was that Chad didn't seem to mind. It was the way it always had been, after all.

"Cool," Chad replied, because it wasn't like he had any other choice. Besides, both of the friends knew that if Chad asked what Troy was up to, he would most likely either lie or not answer. Troy made it clear to his friends that what he did on his own time was his business and no one else's – not even his parents'. "I got to go, so see you then."

Troy didn't bother to respond; he just shut his phone and walked into the kitchen. Smoothly, he placed his phone onto the granite countertop and grabbed an apple. Taking a bite, he glanced over at the pot of freshly made coffee. He grabbed a cup from the cupboard and added the cream and sugar before pouring the coffee. Finally content, Troy headed back out of the kitchen.

He had four hours before he had to be at Chad's, and Troy knew exactly what he wanted to do.

"Troy, you want to go and shoot some hoops outside?"

Not even bothering to stop climbing the stairs to face his father, Troy just said monotonously, "Can't – going to get some coffee and hang at the mall with Shar and Ryan, then I'll be at Chad's practicing."

The lie easily rolled off of Troy's lips, and he successfully hid his disgust as Jack Bolton eagerly accepted Troy's words. Grinning, he said, "That's great, son, great! That's the dedication that will get us far next season!"

Troy shook his head in disbelief as soon as he was safely out of view of his father. Scowling to no one in particular, he strode into his room and slammed the door shut. He took another bite of his apple before settling back onto his bed to consider his plans for next four hours.

And they didn't include going to see Ryan at the mall.

Frowning to himself, Troy contemplated the night before – his memories of Gabriella were just as pungent as they had been then. But _surely _he was blowing it out of proportion. He had hardly said two words to her, and that had only been because he was her waiter. Most likely, Troy thought, he had mulled over Gabriella Montez so much he had exaggerated his feelings and reactions. No girl could make him feel like he was convinced he had felt the night before.

But, then, another part of Troy wasn't so sure. How could he be making up those lively brown eyes, and that beautiful, pearly smile? No girl – not even one from a guy's best 'fantasy' – could look that amazing. It just wasn't physically possible. But then, she had been sitting right there, in front of him. It just didn't add up.

Troy didn't like things that didn't add up.

That was why his plan for the day was to go to the local Barnes and Noble that Gabriella worked at to see if she was just as amazing as he was playing her up to be. At least, he told himself that was the reason.

With this in mind, Troy showered and got himself dressed in just over fifteen minutes. The shower part had been no problem, but the clothes hadn't been so easy. Standing in front of his closet with boxers and a pair of jeans on, he considered his options carefully.

Troy never really cared about his attire before that – he was of the opinion that everyone knew he wasn't falling short in what was under the clothes. So, as long as he dressed in simple, down-to-earth clothing, everything was fine. He never paid any mind as to if stuff flattered him or not – the entire student body of East High either wanted to have his body, or have his body take advantage of them. Depending on whether their interests laid in females or males respectively, of course. As long as his clothes matched relatively well, Troy was all good.

Still, Troy figured if there was the possibility this girl was really as amazing as she came off as, he might as well show her the best of him. With that in mind, he took a record time of ten minutes debating what to wear. Finally just getting sick of his own antics, Troy slipped on an A-shirt and grabbed a button-up shirt. Then, after grabbing his keys and wallet off of the desk, Troy headed out of the room. It had taken much too long, but at least he could sweep Gabriella Montez off her feet, no matter how out-of-this-world she was.

Troy didn't even want to think about why he was worried about clothes when all he was doing was seeing a girl he convinced himself was just ordinary.

As he put on the shirt, Troy listened half-heartedly to his parents' discussion downstairs. The voices traveled easily, and he couldn't help but wonder how they could possibly think he was clueless enough not to hear them.

"Jack!" his mother scolded lightly, her voice just as loud as it always was. "I don't want to overdue it. We've already let him use my old car – he can make due with that for now."

"But just think, Lucy," his father interjected eagerly, making Troy wonder how anyone, let alone a father, could be that immature. Troy couldn't remember the last time he had acted like his father. "Troy's gotten great grades, and he's been really dedicated to basketball, too. He deserves a reward."

Troy inwardly scoffed, making sure to make plenty of noise as he walked down the stairs as to alert them of his presence.

This type of thing had happened many times before – like the time with his 'surprise' sweet sixteen, and the 'surprise' Christmas vacation back in his freshman year. There was also was a 'surprise' in which Troy had been informed he was going to have a baby sibling.

That had been when he was eight, and at the time the young Troy hadn't bothered to point out that he had overheard them talking about it weeks before. He also didn't see fit to mention the fact that his mom had left the pregnancy tests in the bathroom trashcan, for everyone to see. Or the fact that, because of this, Troy had known his mother was pregnant before his father did.

It had been a miscarriage, anyways.

Pushing these thoughts out of his head, Troy looked up at his parents, who had abruptly stopped talking as soon as he walked into the kitchen. Pretending not to notice this, or the wide grin on his father's face, Troy grabbed his cell phone before nodding to his parents curtly.

"Later," he said, and trudged out the door. Neither of his parents said a word. It was rather pathetic, really – he had them in the palm of his hand, and they didn't even realize it.

Getting into his sleek silver Acura – which was only five years old or so – Troy was backing out of the driveway just as his cell phone began to ring. Groaning and having a pretty good idea who it was, he got onto the road, shifted, and started driving. Only then did he pick up his phone, asking, "Yeah?"

"I can't believe you kept me waiting that long," a distinctly feminine voice huffed.

Rolling his eyes at her voice, Troy said, "I was backing out of my driveway, Shar. You want me to get my car totaled so that you don't have to wait ten seconds?"

"Sure – I'd just buy you a new car," Sharpay Evans responded off-handedly. Troy smirked, which was quite an oddity. Usually, anyone who made Troy Bolton smirk would be over the moon with happiness. After all, he was infamous for only showing emotion when it was worth showing. However, this was Sharpay, and she was by no means average.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Troy ignored her comment and asked shortly, "What do you want?"

Not at all put off by Troy's usual curt manner, Sharpay told him excitedly, "You'll never, _ever_ guess where Zeke took me last night!"

"Actually, I could," Troy said, apathetically, stopping his car for a second before taking a right. "He asked me if it was a good idea a week ago."

He could practically hear Sharpay wilting in disappointment as she said, "Aww, you're no fun. I was looking forward to telling you! You know, in case you ever need ideas when you finally get a girlfriend. Knowing you, though, you wouldn't need any pointers. I mean, you're just so romantic – deep, deep down, that is. When you want to be."

However, Troy wasn't put off by her dejected voice. Sharpay had been his friend since kindergarten, and he knew her well enough by now to know she would perk right back up. Sure enough, at the mention of Troy's love life – or lack of one, really – Sharpay launched eagerly into a whole new topic, "Oh! Speaking of which, I have the _perfect_ future Mrs. Bolton for you. Her name's Natalie-"

"Some other time, alright?" Troy said, though there was no question in his voice. "I'm not in the mood. Where's Zeke?"

"Sleeping," Sharpay said devilishly. "Daddy's away on business, and Mom's on a spa getaway vacation for a week with her girlfriends – oh, Troy, it was the _perfect _night…"

"Okay," Troy interrupted yet again, "this is the type of thing you share with Raleigh, alright?"

He could practically see Sharpay rolling her eyes as she responded in a matter-of-fact tone, "Ral's across the house with Ryan, duh. It was their three-month – she wanted me to help her pick out what to wear… or what _not_ to wear, really, but I refused because that's just vulgar. I mean, Ryan's my_ brother_. Besides, if I called her then she'd want to share the details of her night with me, and I really don't care about that. I just want to brag about Zeke."

"Then tell Kelsi – she's a girl. And she's single, until Jason finally gets up enough gumption to ask her out."

"Ew, Kelsi's too naïve," Sharpay complained. "And innocent, too."

Troy turned left before replying, "Well, you were innocent and naïve until a few hours ago, if I remember correctly. And if Kelsi's naïve, I can be, too. It's not like I've ever had a girlfriend."

"So?" Sharpay challenged. "You've had enough one-night stands to count as experienced. And _I. Want. To. Share_."

"Shar," Troy snapped, "I am a guy who is very much attracted to girls. I don't want to hear about how wonderful Zeke was in bed, alright? I get that he was good, seriously. Now you can go and brag to all of your Sharpayettes that you're boyfriend is the second-best in East High. Happy?"

Troy was the only one allowed to get away with calling Sharpay's friends Sharpayettes. He had come up with the name ever since Chad had commented that they were all little Sharpay miniatures. Troy had agreed, hence the name. Anyone else who used it would be dead in a millisecond, but he had special benefits.

No one really knew why, not even Troy and Sharpay.

Everyone assumed it was because they were so much alike in some ways – they were clever and cunning, manipulative, and many things that a person usually wouldn't want to be prided on. Both of them were good liars, and seemed to be remarkably perceptive. Troy figured that was why she knew more about him then anyone else did, because half the things she knew he certainly hadn't told her.

It wasn't like she knew much, though. Just more then anyone else. And when it came to Troy, knowing anything was a pretty large feat.

Still, as alike as they were, Sharpay was very different then Troy in many other ways. For one, she was the drama queen of East High, while Troy hardly showed any emotion whatsoever. She also dated – though she didn't accept offers often, when Sharpay _did_ have a boyfriend they had a steady relationship… until she broke up with him.

Troy, on the other hand, had never had a girlfriend. Sure, he had slept with two girls, and fooled around with a couple of others – but that didn't matter. He had been drunk one of the times he had sex (his first and only time ever letting alcohol take over his mind) and the other was just on a dare. The fooling around was just to have some fun – and to get some experience in case someone interesting came along.

Sarcasm dripped from Sharpay's mouth as she replied, "Right, because you're first, of course."

"Sure am," Troy agreed, now turning into the Barnes and Noble parking lot. He found a parking spot relatively close to the front door and pulled into it smoothly. Turning off the car and pocketing his keys in one fluid motion, Troy said, "I got to go, Shar. Go and wake Zeke up, or something."

Then he hung up.

Though he would never tell anyone, his talk with Sharpay gave him confidence. Troy was now thoroughly convinced that whatever happened would take place without any complications whatsoever. He'd see if Gabriella Montez was really worth his time – and if she, by some miracle, _was_, then his plan was to have some fun until he got sick of her, and she became a waste of his time, like every other girl before her.

That was the way it was for girls with Troy, which was why he didn't ever have a girlfriend. For him, a girl might be interesting for a few dates, or a party – but then the amazement wore off and they just weren't worth it.

Gabriella wouldn't be any different. She had just caught him off guard before – that was all.

And so Troy walked into Barnes and Noble with no qualms whatsoever.

It took him roughly five minutes to find her shelving books in the Literature section, and that included buying a coffee. She was on a ladder, with a stack of identical books in her hands and a box of the same book on the floor next to the ladder.

The row Gabriella and Troy were in was empty, so Troy was able to lean against the shelf and watch her critically as she worked in peace.

It took all of two seconds for Troy to realize he hadn't been exaggerating in the least. Her skin was flawless, so smooth and delicate that he couldn't help but long to run his hands over her. And the way she moved – Troy had never seen anything quite like it. Gabriella was definitely the most beautiful person he had ever seen, magazines included. She was just wearing her work uniform, but Troy thought she looked gorgeous all the same, especially with her hair tied back as it was.

Troy quickly pushed these thoughts out of his head, knowing that if he dwelled on Gabriella's sexiness for too long he'd have a problem on his hands. A very big problem.

Maybe Gabriella was worth more of his time then he had originally thought.

"Can I help you?"

Troy blinked. While he had been lost in thought, Gabriella had noticed him and climbed down from the ladder. Now she was standing in front of him, arms crossed adorably with a look of dislike in her eyes, though her voice was unfailingly polite. All Troy could think about, though, was how angelic her voice sounded, and how her eyes were even more vivid in person.

What the _hell_ was wrong with him?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Troy's face remained unfailingly blank. Shrugging off-handedly he said, "Well, a date would be nice, actually." And then, noting the shocked look on her face, he added, "I'm Troy Bolton, by the way."

He studied her face as it transformed from bewilderment, to confusion, and then to recognition. So she knew his name – Troy inwardly smiled at this, though by his eyes and facial expression, a bystander would never know. He loved her face – how her emotions spilled over them and made her as easy to read as a book. And even more then that he was captivated by her eyes. He had never seen anything like them before, and just one look at them made him think he didn't have as much control over her as everyone else.

He would never admit how much that unsettled him.

Even as Troy was watching, Gabriella seemed to setting on an emotion – annoyance. Pressing her lips tightly together, she asked coolly, "Do you even know who I am?"

Troy smirked, saying off-handedly, "You're Gabriella Montez."

"And that's not turning you off of me?" she asked suspiciously, obviously not trusting him. Troy couldn't help but decide he liked it when she looked annoyed – screw that, he liked any of her expressions.

That was yet another problem. For such a small girl, Gabriella Montez certainly was sending Troy for a ride. Oh, well – it wasn't like she'd retain his attention for any longer then his past flings.

Troy blinked, considering her question. It should turn him off, that was true. And she obviously expected it to. But it didn't. The ever elusive Gabriella Montez was just as enticing as she had been the night before. And that definitely was not a good thing. Hence the plan.

Instead of voicing all of this out loud, however, Troy simply said, "Surprisingly, no."

She nodded slowly before smirking back at him and saying, "You think I'm naïve enough to not consider the fact you're playing me to get to Vincent."

"That's a good point," he conceded. "Except that I'm not."

"Right, because I have every reason to believe you."

That was definitely sarcasm right there. Grinning in spite of himself, Troy replied, "Gabi, I'm pretty sure I can make you believe me."

She uncrossed her arms, only to settle them on her hips as she stated matter-of-factly, "First things first, it's Gabriella. Not Gabi, or Bri, or Ella. Got that? And secondly, I'm not going out with you. I'm too smart to be taken advantage of by some lunkhead basketball guy."

Troy couldn't help but chuckle at this. Letting her comments roll off of him, he replied, "Well, besides the fact that I take honors classes and don't take advantage of unwilling girls, I rather like the term 'lunkhead basketball guy'. It sums up about half the guys on my team. As for going out with me, I think I can make you change your mind."

"Well, I don't think so," she huffed angrily. Troy smiled again, deciding he liked making her mad.

Shrugging it of, he said, "C'mon, you know you can't resist this."

"I'm not a hormonally-driven cheerleader who will put out to any guy within a three-yard radius, alright? Get that into your head," she snapped. "Besides, I'm sure you have the entire female population of East High falling over each other to jump into your bed – I'm pretty sure you don't need West High's girls joining in, too. Good-bye, Troy Bolton."

And then she walked away.

Troy smiled at her retreating back, asking idly, "Not even a phone number?"

He could tell by the way her back stiffened that she had heard him, but Gabriella didn't turn around or even respond. Once she was out of sight, Troy glanced down at the box of books she was supposed to be shelving. Apparently she had forgotten about them.

What the hell, he thought. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. At least that's what he told himself as he climbed up on the ladder and started putting the books where they belonged. Once he was done, Troy glanced down at the box, deciding to leave it where it was.

Eyeing it, an idea came to his mind. Darting to the nearest customer – a young middle school girl with hair up in a ponytail and her head in a book – Troy asked to borrow a pen. Giggling, the girl handed over a permanent marker, saying it was the only thing she had on her. That was even better.

Using large handwriting, he carefully wrote down his phone number in the box, figuring that since it was empty that would be the most noticeable place to put it. Writing under it _call me_, he returned the marker to its owner. He didn't know why, but he liked Gabriella Montez, one of the only people in the universe he was supposed to hate.

But Troy just couldn't find it in himself to forget about her. Besides, no one had made him smile that much in a long time. Not even Sharpay. He didn't like the idea of someone having that much power over him.

Troy was positive the only way to forget about Gabriella Montez would be to get to know her first. It was obvious that she wasn't into him, but that wasn't a problem. He always liked a challenge.

-----

**Hope you enjoyed! Oh, and just to let you know this won't be a typical love-hate story or whatever... I do love those types of fics if their well-written, but my story is going to have a much bigger plot then that.**


	4. Unconscious Changes

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, like Vincent and Raleigh.

-

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait everyone! I went to orientation for Lawrence Academy and I totally loved it! I have tons of new friends, although there's no one that has really 'clicked' with me yet. Oh well, there are plenty of more people to meet! I've been best friends with two people for a long time, so not really having any best, best friends that I'm with 24/7 is a tough change. Anyways, this chapter has a bit of a cliffy, and nothing much happens. On a happier note, I promise that the next chapter will be FULL of juicy stuff. Trust me. And the chapter after that will, too - at least I think. School's being a bit over-whelming, what with mandatory sports after school and soccer, so I'll try to update asap, but no promises on that account. Just to let you know, I really did mean that there will be no Sharpay-bashing. Right now, she may seem a bit ditzy or shallow, but that doesn't mean I'm making her out to be a total bitch that's lusting after Troy. I know none of you have said she was, I just wanted to clear that up. Also, thanks for the reviews! They were amazing!!

**Chapter 3: Unconscious Changes**

_It's 'bout as bad as it could be  
Seems everybody's bugging me  
Like nothing wants to go my way--  
Yeah, it just ain't been my day  
Nothing's coming easily..._

…_Up, up, up,  
Can only go up from here  
Up, up, up, up,  
Where the clouds gonna clear  
Up, up, up,  
There's no way but up from here_

_- Up, Shania Twain_

"Troy, what is _wrong_ with you?"

Troy decided that this remark didn't call for an answer, and was proven right as Sharpay didn't stop talking – she just took a deep breath and continued, "I mean, _honestly_, you've been disappearing for the better half of the past two weeks, and then when you're with us you have some slut stuck on your arm. What, are you trying to be _Chad _now?"

If it were just Sharpay there with him, Troy might've granted her an eye roll. But because they were sitting in the mall's Starbucks, with almost all of the other occupants attending high school, he kept his face neutral and vacant. Though most of the other customers were in conversation, he could see them sneaking glances every few seconds, only to turn away, blushing or giggling or sliding down farther in their seats. And those who weren't doing that were outright staring.

Sharpay and Troy weren't oblivious enough not to realize more then half of the conversations taking place around them most likely_ featured_ them as well. This just demonstrated another difference between the two friends. While Sharpay basked in the glory and attention, Troy just ignored it. It was a part of life.

He had to admit, though, when he was bored it was rather amusing to catch people staring at him, if only to see their reactions.

In response to Sharpay, Troy said flatly, "I'm looking for someone interesting, alright – I figure, once I find a girl that can keep my attention, everyone else will leave me alone."

"But, Troy," Sharpay sighed, shaking her head and taking a sip of her skinny iced vanilla latté before continuing, "you'll only stay interested in a girl who doesn't fall over herself to get to you. You won't find a girl like that in East High besides me, and I'm taken."

"What about your drama friends – like Kelsi or Torrance?" Troy challenged idly, looking down at his own coffee.

Sharpay's answer was immediate as she replied, "Well, Kelsi's too shy – you'd never go for a girl who didn't speak her mind. Torrance, on the other hand, is too wild, I think. And don't even start on my other friends – the ones you so kindly call Sharpayettes. I may not know you well, Troy, but I know you better then everyone but yourself. Give me _some _credit."

He didn't bother addressing each of her comments. All he said was, "I don't need someone I like; I need a girl who won't always be stuck to me, but can still qualify as a girlfriend. I just want everyone to get off my back."

_Liar. _

Troy could practically hear his conscience laughing as he fed Sharpay the lie. He didn't want a girl so that people would bugger off – although that would certainly be a plus. And he hadn't been hooking up with girls all week because he was bored or needed to find a girl he could put up with.

But that was what he told Sharpay. Over his dead body would Troy ever tell her the real reason. He would never tell her how he hooked up with all those girls in hopes that they would get a certain someone else off his mind. Troy Bolton didn't give girls a second thought – and just because something about Gabriella Montez made him look twice didn't mean he would _ever_ admit it.

Sure, he knew that every time he kissed those other girls, pictures of Gabriella flashed through his mind – but no one else ever would. They would never know about how he imagined he was with her, instead of some cheerleader he couldn't remember the name of.

Besides, Sharpay should've been counting herself lucky, anyways – not only was she the only person at East High who dared to challenge him like that, she was actually given an answer. So what if it was a lie? It wasn't like she'd ever find out.

Troy hadn't told anyone about his encounter with Gabriella, and definitely not the fact that she hadn't called him. No one had ever done that before. Usually, Troy would welcome a challenge. But Gabriella was getting too damn confusing, and none of the girls he had fooled around with during the two weeks after seeing her were taking his mind off of her.

And that, if nothing else, proved that Gabriella had a much tighter hold on him then would ever be acceptable. So Troy, being Troy, decided something had to be done. He had already decided on a course of action, now all he needed was for Sharpay to get out of his face about his new habits relating to the fairer sex.

Narrowing her eyes, Sharpay replied suspiciously, "It's never bothered you before, Troy. Just because I don't take Honors or AP classes doesn't mean I'm stupid. I _know _something else is going on with you."

"Whatever," Troy ground out, the edge in his voice noticeable only to himself. "Even if there was something up, it's not like I'd tell you."

If anyone else had said this, Sharpay would've found it highly insulting. But this was Troy, and he always seemed to get away with saying whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Everyone let Troy do whatever he wanted, and just because Sharpay was one of his closer friends didn't mean she was exempt. Besides, she was used to it by now, as were most people. It was like second nature.

Sharpay didn't reply. Instead, there was a few moments of silence between the two before she perked up yet again and said eagerly, "Oh, I've got it – I'll find a girl from West High for you! One of them is bound to hate you, right? That's just perfect!"

"No," Troy said bitingly, showing a surprising amount of resentment. He didn't like how close to the mark Sharpay had gotten. Even if she hadn't intended to, she had definitely hit a sore spot for Troy. He didn't like the idea of Gabriella having control over him, and the last thing he needed was for anyone to start getting ideas.

Looking noticeably bewildered at Troy's response, Sharpay shrugged it off in typical Sharpay-fashion – because it didn't affect or interest her. Troy inwardly smiled. She was just so predictable. He liked predictable, if only because he knew what to expect from it. Nothing to put him off guard or challenge him.

And he'd be damned if he let Gabriella change his life.

Shaking his head fiercely, Troy stood up abruptly and said, "I'm heading off. Later."

"Yeah," Sharpay said vaguely. She another sip of her drink before asking, "Are you going over to Jenn's tonight, or what?"

"Sure," Troy said. "The usual, afterwards?"

"Yeah, call me," she said, picking up her purse and latte before strutting out. Troy followed, not bothering to look back at the audience he and Sharpay had accumulated. He knew most of them would end up at the party, anyways – especially now that Troy and Sharpay had just announced they were going.

All the more reason to stay as briefly as possible.

------

"Hello?"

_She picked up. That's a start._

"Hello, Mrs. Montez? Is Gabriella there? I'm a friend from the Decathlon team."

"Gabriella's actually out right now," Mrs. Montez replied. "But she has her cell phone with her, so you can reach her there."

_Even better._

On the other end, Troy smirked victoriously. Pumping his fist in the air, his eyes darted to his closed bedroom door. He then replied to Mrs. Montez in a voice a few octaves higher then his own, "Um, actually, my phone broke yesterday, and I can't seem to find her number anywhere else, so…" he trailed off, trying to sound uncertain and making sure to keep his voice disguised.

Apparently he succeeded, because Mrs. Montez replied sympathetically, "Oh, dear, it's no problem. I can give it to you. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"One second," Troy said, picking up his. He silently counted to three before continuing. "Okay."

"Her number's 978-439-2600, alright? If you have any problems feel free to just call me back."

_Score._

Troy copied down the number on the sheet of paper sitting on the desk in front of him, his smirk widening. Making sure to keep his voice the same, he said gratefully to Mrs. Montez, "Thanks so much, Mrs. Montez."

"Not a problem."

Troy said a quick good-bye before hanging up. Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the paper before flipping his cell phone back open. Without any hesitation, he dialed Gabriella's cell phone number and pressed 'send'.

That, of course, was when he _did _hesitate. He froze, staring at the phone with his finger hovering over the 'end' button. Troy's mind was split – half was yelling to hang up, and the other half was shouting to put the damn phone to his ear. The first half seemed to be stronger, because on the second ring Troy's finger mechanically pressed down.

_So much for that._

Troy groaned loudly, cursing a million curses in his head. What about Gabriella Montez made everything so damn difficult? It was simple: call her, get a date, hook up. It was the three-step method on how to get over a girl. Of course, it only worked if you could actually manage to let the phone ring.

Glaring at the phone, the part of Troy's brain that backed out seemed to shrink. As this happened, the half that was swearing and wondering what the hell made him back out grew larger and larger. Finally, Troy was thoroughly convinced that he would just have to do it again… the right way, this time.

He took a large breath, avoiding his task for a moment longer. Troy spun around in his swivel chair a few times leisurely. Each time he went around, his eyes caught sight of the alarm clock situated on his nightstand. 8:34 PM. He was already four minutes late, but that didn't matter.

As he did whenever going to a party, Troy would tell his parents he was sleeping over one of his friend's houses – Chad, this time. He would head over early, and they would hang for a bit before going to the party. Then, inevitably, Troy would leave within ten minutes to go and do something a bit more interesting.

Troy's thoughts were drawn yet again to the call he had to make as his spinning came to a slow halt. Vaguely, he wondered what her reaction would be – surprise was inevitable, awe was preferable, and annoyance was much too probable for Troy's liking.

A part of him hoped it would be easy – she would be impressed and as a result would quickly accept a date proposal. But then that would just be too simple. Gabriella hadn't been simple or easy so far, so why would she be now? No, it would be much harder then that. How much harder, however, was debatable. And that, in part, was why Troy was hesitant about calling her.

Shaking his head, Troy looked down at the phone again. He redialed the number, now positioning his finger over the button marked 'send'. He looked at his nightstand again nervously – 8:35. As he watched, the time changed to 8:36.

At that precise moment, Jack Bolton shouted up the stairs, "Troy! You going to head out yet? Chad will be looking for you."

Not sure whether he should be cursing or thanking his father – not that he would ever verbally do either, obviously – Troy gratefully shut his phone and pocketing it. Standing up, he convinced himself that it was because he just wanted his dad to shut up, not because he was secretly afraid to call a _girl_.

For whatever reason, Troy didn't stop as he trudged out his door, not bothering to change out of his jeans and Dave Matthews Band t-shirt.

He was _not_ afraid to call a girl.

------

"Dude, this is_ insane_!" the voice of Chad Danforth hollered above the pounding music as he pushed his way through the crowd.

Troy remained silent, eyeing the freshman cheerleader attached to Chad's arm with a calculating and faintly disapproving gaze. Pretending not to notice, Chad just grinned widely at the group of friends. Raleigh Cross pressed her lips tightly together, her face uncharacteristically cold. From behind her, Ryan wrapped his arms soothingly around her waist, making her relax slightly.

Jason seemed to be the only one unaware of the awkwardness. Taking another gulp of beer from his already half-empty bottle, he replied, "Yeah, it's intense – Jenn sure as hell knows how to throw a house party. Did you even see the pool?"

Though Jason was yelling, his voice was barely heard over the pounding of the music. Troy looked around, thankful that because of his reputation everyone gave him, and his friends, space. All around them, people were dancing, mingling, and hooking up – one particularly impatient couple was heatedly making out on the couch. Even as Troy watched, another guy stumbled over and shouted something incoherent to Troy – presumably telling the couple to get a room.

Raleigh was looking around in obvious disgust – she wasn't really one for parties, and only went because once her brother Jason got drunk, she would be able to head over with Ryan to his house. Sharpay and Zeke, on the other hand, hadn't even bothered coming. They were most likely hanging around the Evans' house.

"Shit, I'm going to miss these parties," Chad said, trying to sound reminiscent but failing due to his slurring of words. Ever since the beginning of the summer, Chad had been going on about how much he was going to miss everything, in true senior fashion. Troy didn't bother to remind him that, while the upcoming school year would be his last, Chad would still have the summer after his senior year to look forward to. Besides, Jason and Chad had already decided to attend the University of Albuquerque.

Jason nodded, glancing around the room and immediately zooming in on what appeared to be a Sharpayette, who was wearing a shirt with so many sequins, you had to squint while looking at it. She was a senior, he knew, because she had been Chad's girlfriend the week before.

Yet another reason why Troy couldn't wait until his senior year.

While Jason, Chad, Zeke, and the majority of Troy's friends were seniors, Troy himself was going to be a junior. The year difference wasn't much, but it was enough to ensure that for one year Troy could exist in peace. Sure, Sharpay, Ryan, and Raleigh would still be in his class, but he could deal with them.

It would be a relief, though, to have most of his basketball friends leave. Sure, Alejandro, Devon, and Ryan would still be there – but Devon and Ryan were best friends, and Alejandro liked to be alone, so he would be able to just forget everyone.

That would be nice – like a vacation. Troy needed a vacation from his friends.

When it came to friends, Troy was of the opinion that most of them weren't worth the effort you have to put into finding and keeping them. He was sure he could do just fine without all of his friends – even Chad. Sure, Chad was basically by Troy's side as often as was humanly possible, but Troy had no doubt that Chad served no actual use in his life. Except for assisting him in basketball games, that is.

Troy would be fine without friends – the problem was, none of them would be fine without him. And so they stuck to him, and didn't go away. Hence, Troy became the most popular guy at East High. It wasn't intentional – he just attracted people by being his indifferent, talented, cold self.

Why, he had no idea.

Glancing around, Troy said flatly, "I'm done – heading over to Shar's."

"We'll come," Raleigh quickly agreed, and Ryan nodded. "Nate and Alejandro will be there, right?"

"And Matt," Ryan agreed. Nodding shortly, Troy didn't bother responding to the farewells coming from Chad and Jason. He just made his way to the door with Ryan and Raleigh behind him, ignoring the dancers that seemed to magically part before him and pushing past the few that didn't.

As soon as he was out of the house, everything seemed to be muffled. He didn't bother to speak to Ryan and Raleigh as they made their way to Ryan's Porsche. Troy just got into his own car, and smoothly backed out of his parking space. As soon as he was on the road, with Ryan on his tail, Troy flipped open his cell phone and pressed 2 and then 'send'.

Sharpay picked up on the first ring. She didn't bother with formalities and instead chose to just say, "Oh my God, where are you? Matt and Alejandro are already here, with Nate and Alex are on the way – she's _finally _back from John Hopkins! We want to celebrate!"

"Yeah, okay," Troy said. "I'll be there in five. Ryan and Ral are behind me."

"Great! I'll get the drinks ready," Sharpay squealed.

Troy frowned, wondering how many of them would be smart enough to stay sober. Alejandro, that was for sure – he was a sophomore and a bit of a loner, but he liked to come to Sharpay's little 'after parties' anyways, and her after-after parties (which was what they fondly called her little get-togethers that took place after an after party), too.

Jason and Chad sometimes liked to come, and the same went for most of the other popular kids at East High – it was invitation only, though, with the rule that you could only enter sober. It didn't matter if you came out drunk, but entering sober was a priority. And that was why most of the basketball players didn't go. And, besides, there weren't any cheerleaders invited – Sharpay hated cheerleaders. That was why most of Troy's fellow teammates wanted to stay at the original party, anyways, if only to have some fun in a bedroom.

Just as he started to come up on his road on his way to the Evans', Troy hesitated, a thought entering his mind. It was only 10:30 – any normal teenager would be up at that hour… frowning, he impulsively put on his directional, pulling onto his street. Ryan drove right past, undoubtedly assuming Troy was just stopping at home for some reason or another.

But Troy had no intentions of going home.

Pulling over and shutting his car off, Troy just sat there for a moment, gazing off into nothing, his mind blank. Shaking out of his stupor, he then proceeded to take out his cell phone, flipping it open and going into his contacts.

Finding the number he wanted not quite as fast as a perpetual cell phone user would, but still quickly enough for his liking, Troy didn't give himself time to have second thoughts – he pressed send and then put the phone to his ear. One ring, and then…

"Hello?"

------

**Next chapter will be up as soon as I can manage it. And please, please review!!**


	5. On Fire

**Disclaimer: **The plot, Vincent, Raleigh, and Alejandro are mine... eh, that would be it, unfortunately.

-

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella, with a dash of Zekepay

**Author's Note: **So, first of all I would just like to say that this chapter is dedicated to Chloeroo-07, basically because her review was the one that got me up to finish this chapter. Yes, I intended to get this chapter up more then a week ago. Unfortunately, some sort of sickness started to go around my school, and I caught it. Then, as soon as I was better I went on vacation for the weekend. Anyways, I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, and you can all seriously thank Chloe, because if it wasn't for her review this chapter would probably be only half done. No joke. On another note, I was in such a rush to get the last chapter up that I forgot to mention Chapter 3 was dedicated to cookiemonster9023. Thanks so much for the great reviews!! Seriously, I LIVE for them, haha. On the topic of reviewing, thanks SOO MUCH!! I'm not exaggerating when I say I never expected this many reviews. They mean SO much to me, as all of you with fics of your own know. PLEASE keep them coming!! They seriously made my past week bearable. Also thanks to the people who put 'Emotions' on story alert - there are 67 of you!! (And thanks also goes to the 30 readers - but not necessarily reviewers - that favorited this fic, or any others of mine). Right, on with the chapter... I hope none of you are disappointed, because I'm a bit unsure as to whether I did the right thing...

------

**Chapter 4: On Fire**

_Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time  
I feel alive  
And the world, I'll turn it inside out yeah  
I'm floating around in ecstasy  
So don't stop me now  
Don't stop me  
'cause I'm having a good time  
Having a good time_

I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky  
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity  
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva  
I'm gonna go go go there's no stopping me  
I'm burning through the sky yeah  
Two hundred degrees that's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit  
I'm traveling at the speed of light. 

- Don't Stop Me Now, Queen 

------

_"Hello?"_

Troy tried not to think about her voice – he tried not to think about the person on the other line, and how much she affected him. Blocking out everything that he found strangely appealing about her, he tried to act like he would around anyone else. Of course, that was a lost cause. So, Troy settled for a more suave voice, rather then his usual apathetic one. Maybe that was why he was able to say smoothly, "Hello, Gabriella Montez. Remember me?"

He smirked, loving how he had shocked her into silence. A moment of silence, that is, because a moment later Gabriella asked sharply, "How did you get my phone number?"

The smirk was replaced with a genuine smile as Troy replied, "So you remember me? I must say, I'm honored."

"You didn't answer the question."

"Oh, I have my ways," he said mysteriously. His enigmatic ways annoyed her; Troy could tell that much by the way she huffed in annoyance.

"So," Troy said conversationally, as if he hadn't even noticed her less-than-promising response and keeping his voice rather neutral, "I was wondering if you had reconsidered my request from earlier."

"I have a boyfriend," she said flatly, and Troy could decipher a hint of panic in her voice. _Finally._ It was about time he had the upper hand in their rather limited relationship.

With the knowledge he had power still fresh in his mind, Troy said confidently, "No, you don't. You're just using that as an excuse – if you did, that would've been one of the first things out of your mouth that day at the book store."

"And what if I got one since then?" She challenged.

Not missing a beat, Troy retorted evenly, "You didn't." There was a silence, and once Troy was sure Gabriella wasn't going to respond, he added, "Besides, there's also the fact that you immediately jumped to the conclusion I was referring to my request for a date. You've been thinking about it."

"That's the only question you've asked me – unless you count wanting to know my number, and you already have that," Gabriella retorted.

Not missing a beat, per usual, Troy prayed Gabriella couldn't tell by his voice that he had a broad grin spread across his face as he responded, "Ah, so you've been analyzing our conversation. I must say, Gabi, if you had analyzed it correctly you would've realize the right move was to call me."

"I did realize that, actually," she replied acridly. "I just had no desire to ever contact you again."

"Ah, harsh words," Troy sighed. "Gabi, you should know that it's no use – I _will _take you out on a date."

"Like hell you will."

_Ouch._ Troy inwardly winced at her matter-of-fact tone, but kept his voice light and jesting as he replied, "Famous last words, Gabi. Famous last words."

"I'm not going to be seduced by some East High jock that just wants to use me against my brother," she said, a surprising amount of determination in her voice. Troy didn't quite know what the right response was to that.

His curiosity evident, Troy responded evenly, "Has it even crossed your mind that maybe I have no interest in how your brother plays into this situation? Because I'm being completely honest when I say that he hasn't even entered my mind."

"Oh, sure, like I believe that," Gabriella snapped, sounding a bit unsure of herself after hearing a notable lack of animosity in Troy's voice. Wasn't he supposed to be mad? Troy figured he was supposed to be – but then, he never had done something just because it was what people expected. "You're Troy Bolton – you _hate_ Vincent."

"Yeah, I do," Troy admitted, unabashed. Then, honestly, he told her, "But if I wanted to hurt Vincent, I'd be beating him up right now – I've done it before, I could do it again. If there's one thing you should know about me, Gabriella, it's that I don't use or hurt innocent bystanders. Yes, I _do_ have a problem with your brother, and most of the West High basketball team, for that matter. That doesn't mean I'm narrow-minded enough to hate all of West High."

"Oh."

Gabriella's voice was small and almost timid – Troy could tell that at least a bit of her was regretting her past words. Well, good. He had never told anyone that much about himself before. She better have _some_ sort of reaction. But then it was as if she had found some sort of reasoning to grasp onto, because then she said a bit strongly, "Well, it's not like there's any other reason for you to be interested in me."

Troy blinked, temporarily stunned into silence.

It was a moment before he replied, succeeding only in hiding_ most_ of his incredulity, "You really don't get it, do you? You honestly think that there's no possible way a guy would be into you." She didn't answer, so he continued, "Well, I _am_ interested in you – there's no point in denying it. This isn't about your brother, or West High verse East High. It's about a pretty girl and a guy who wants to take her out on a date."

"It is?" her voice was timid and shy again, with a note of disbelief.

Resolutely, Troy told her, "Face it, Gabriella Montez, you are interesting. And that's not altogether a good thing."

"Yeah," she said vaguely, clearly lost in thought. Finally comprehending his last statement, she asked confusedly, "Wait, what?"

He smiled, and knew it revealed itself in his voice as he simply replied, "Goodbye, Gabi – I'll call you back some other time about that date."

And he hung up, just then realizing how hard his hands were shaking. Staring down at said hands without really seeing them, he started to panic slightly as he wondered just how true his words to Gabriella had been.

Dread brewing in his stomach, Troy settled on an answer – far too true for his liking.

-------

Though Troy would never admit it, it was by pure fate that Raleigh just so happened to sit Gabriella and her grandparents down at the same table as they had the time before, which had been two and a half weeks previous. He noticed her immediately, and watched as discreetly as possible as Raleigh innocently led the trio over to the table.

It was now Friday, three days after Troy had called Gabriella. Unwilling to let himself sink to the level of a desperate, love-struck idiot, he had successfully resisted calling Gabriella on Wednesday. He intended to try calling her cell phone again Thursday, but she never picked up. It didn't really surprise him – now that she knew his number she would try not to pick up. He had also tried calling from the home phone, in hopes that Vincent or Mrs. Montez would pick up, not recognizing his cell phone number. Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky.

Oh, well – what else could he expect?

Still, it certainly helped things along when he trudged out of the kitchens, only to find the object of his thoughts sitting there across the restaurant.

Gabriella, on the other hand, didn't even realized where she was sitting until Troy walked over to their table and said indifferently, "Hello, my name's Troy and I'll be your server today."

He could practically hear the thoughts that were running through her mind as her head immediately snapped up at the sound of his voice. Shock, disbelief, and panic, among other emotions, flitted across her face as their eyes met. Smirking slightly, Troy watched as she hastily looked away.

Not taking his eyes off of her, Troy continued after a deliberate moment's pause, "The special's today are…" Now he was on autopilot, spouting off the specials as he had with every other table. As he did, Troy purposefully kept his eyes on her – for some reason he didn't really want to unearth, she was more interesting to disconcert then anyone else.

He had never taken the time to examine what she wore before, but as soon as he had turned and walked away, he found himself analyzing everything he had seen – from her cosmetic-free face to her loose-fitting kaki pants. She didn't have a purse, which was certainly an oddity for any girl, and the shirt and pants she wore were surprisingly simple for such a restaurant. Although the Baylor's restaurant didn't have a strict dress code, it was one of those expensive, fancier places that most people dressed up for.

Looking back, Troy tried to recall what she had worn the first time he had seen her. He drew a blank. As for the day after that, her Barns and Noble uniform wouldn't help him learn more about her. Still, he could deduce several things about her that only reinforced what he had assumed all along.

It was then, in utter disbelief, that Troy realized exactly what he was doing._ This_ was what he had resorted to? Deciphering the meaning behind what clothes Gabriella wore? Troy was now more certain then ever that the effect she had on him was not good at all. It had to go – and the only way for him to get Gabriella out of his mind was to just get the goddamn date.

He _needed _that date.

It was like a light bulb went off in his brain. Suddenly, Troy knew exactly how to confront her. Smirking, and with a plan already formed in his mind, Troy went back to work in relative peace. He had a game plan: now all he had to do was wait.

The appetizers passed without event, as did the main course. The time seemed to inch along slowly, as Troy watched Gabriella grow more and more at ease. Though she had remained tense and uptight at the beginning, she was now slowly but surely relaxing – no doubt assuming that Troy wasn't going to try anything.

She just didn't know him at all, did she?

Gabriella got up to go to the bathroom precisely five minutes after Troy had taken the coffee and desert orders from her and her grandparents. He watched as she did so with his eagle-like eyes from his position a few tables over. Quickly finishing serving the food, he smoothly put the tray away and glanced around before casually sauntering after her.

Troy walked straight towards the door with a restroom sign above it. The door led to a hallway – once in said hallway, you could choose to enter either the men's or women's bathroom.

He leaned against the wall next to the entrance to the women's restroom. This was where his plan got a bit complicated. There were two ways it could go – both significantly risky, but in different ways. Taking a deep breath, Troy tried to banish the strange feelings he was having from his body. He didn't have time for nerves or second thoughts anymore.

But they were still there.

He was so damn nervous it was like he was in middle school again – hell, Troy hadn't even experienced these feelings when he was in middle school, even when all of his friends where. He used to watch all of his friends get worked up about asking a girl out, or even just to dance. Troy would watch and smirk, amused by the way his friends acted.

The downside to never having nerves before was the fact that he had no idea how to get rid of them. Trying to get all of the energy out of himself, Troy bounced up and down on his toes nervously – something he never would have done before Gabriella, even with no one watching.

Before Gabriella. It was like Before Christ, or something – meeting Gabriella was some sort of turning point in his life. A milestone, even. Letting his mind wander, Troy wondered whether he'd look back when he was older only to find his life divided into two halves: before he met Gabriella, and after.

BG and AG.

That would not be good at all.

He stopped bouncing on his toes as soon as the door to the women's restrooms opened, revealing not Gabriella but a rather elderly lady who was as thin as a pole, but considerably shorter then one. Clearing his throat, he asked evenly, "M'am, could you tell me if there is anyone in the ladies' bathroom? I have to clean it, you see."

Though her eyes had narrowed suspiciously at first, the lady's facial expression softened as she smiled and said, "Oh, there's just one girl in there – I'm sure she'll be out in a few moments."

Troy nodded, inwardly disgusted. Although they came in handy, he loathed gullible people. They just believed everything, and took whatever was given to them without question. He knew better then that – to survive, you have to question things, and push to get what you want… to get the truth.

Pushing his irrational anger towards the gullible lady out of his head, Troy exhaled slowly before pushing the door into the women's restroom open.

It was certainly well-furnished, not that Troy would expect anything less of the Baylor's. The bathroom had marble floors and soothing light walls, with white stalls and countertops. There was a place to wash your hands, a decorative couch, and several bathroom stalls. There was even a small nightstand-like table with standard items on it, such as cotton swabs, tissues, and tampons.

Gabriella was facing away from him, looking down as she washed her hands. He watched her, noticing the dreamy expression on her face and the way her small hands delicately shut off the faucet.

That, of course, was when she looked up, and saw Troy through the reflection in the mirror.

He smiled slightly, watching as she spun around quick as lightening, only to stare at him in disbelief. Gabriella blinked several times, speechless for several moments before asking in a rather high-pitched voice, "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I work here, remember?"

The words came out so good-naturedly, so easily, like they always did around Gabriella. Troy inwardly hesitated – it was so strange. He hadn't had many interactions with Gabriella at all, but it was like there was a line between the Troy Bolton with Gabriella and the Troy Bolton with everyone else. How the hell did that work? Troy only wished he knew.

Bluntly, Gabriella replied, "Not in the girl's bathroom."

"What can I say? I felt daring today."

"Oh, really – so it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm in here?" her voice was curious, and wasn't as hard as before. That was good.

Troy grinned widely, saying vaguely as he started to take slow steps towards her, "Well, you might have had something to do with it."

It was as if there was some sort of switch, and Troy had just flicked it, because suddenly panic flitted across Gabriella's face. But she didn't move. She watched him with wide eyes as he stepped closer and closer, until they were less then an arm's length away. Her voice was shaky as she whispered, "You're not supposed to be in here – someone could see."

Troy frowned – that was something he hadn't thought through. Glancing around, it came to him as if it he had been planning on doing it all along. And maybe it was, because when he smoothly reached past Gabriella and opened the handicapped bathroom stall door, it seemed rehearsed, even to him. Gesturing for her to go in, Gabriella hesitated before slowly taking a few steps backwards into the stall. Troy followed, shutting the door behind him. Thankfully, the painted wooden door reached the ground, so no one would be able to see his feet.

"There," he said simply, "now we can get to the important stuff."

At this, something seemed to change. Knowing exactly what Troy meant, Gabriella shook her head vehemently back and forth. Despite this, her voice was unexpectedly soft as she replied a bit breathlessly, "I'm _not_ going out with you, Troy Bolton. I know better."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, refusing to let her hear the hurt and anger in his voice. He hadn't done _anything_ to her –nothing at all. It shouldn't be this hard to get her to trust him.

Wait. Why did he care if she trusted him? Troy mentally groaned – this was getting too damn confusing, even for him.

Gabriella crossed her arms a bit defensively, "I've been asking around about you, and I haven't heard good things. You manipulate girls, fool around with them and then leave them because you get bored. I told you before; I'm_ not_ going to let myself get played. Especially not by you, of all people."

Still, he persisted, saying, "As friends, then. I won't try anything – just two friends, hanging out."

"Nope," she said resolutely, her face firm. "I don't know how much self-control I'd have with just the two of us – and so I'm taking the smart approach and avoiding the situation altogether. And I'm doing it right now, too. Good-bye, Troy."

Troy blinked – she didn't know how much self-control _she'd_ have?

After saying her bit, Gabriella made to push past him and out of the bathroom stall. But Troy was steadfast – he wasn't about to pass up this chance to convince her to go out with him. Grabbing her by the waist, Troy gently pushed her back a step or two so that her back was against the wall. Taking care to make sure he wasn't being rough with her or causing her pain, he kept his hold on her, even as she uselessly tried to escape his grasp.

"I won't let you out of here until you agree to go out with me – even if it's just as friends," Troy said evenly, a hint of a smile on his face. Gabriella, on the other hand, didn't look so happy. Furious, she opened her mouth to respond…

And that was precisely when the door to the ladies' restroom opened, and an elderly voice asked, "Gabriella, dear, are you in here? You've been gone for close to ten minutes."

Troy watched in amusement as Gabriella paled. She glanced quickly at Troy, trying half-heartedly to struggle out of his grip as she replied in a slightly strangled voice, "Uh, I'm fine, really. The thing is I just realized it's that time of the month, so…" she trailed off, and Troy couldn't help but snicker silently, rather impressed by her quick-thinking.

"Oh! I didn't know – do you need anything?"

Gabriella's face went beat red – quite the contrast from the pale – as she said quickly, "No, that's okay, really. I'll be out in a minute. Don't worry about me."

"If you're sure – I'll just go and tell your grandfather that you're fine, then."

As soon as Gabriella's grandmother left, Troy gave her an appraising look and said, "Now _that _was quick-thinking, Gabi. I'm impressed."

Troy watched as she suppressed a smile and instead scowled, starting to struggle against his grip again as she exclaimed, "I can't believe that! This is all your fault. Now _let me go_."

"Say yes," he pressed urgently, leaning closer to her instinctively.

Her eyes darted around frantically as she hissed nervously, "Troy, my grandparents are looking for me!"

He wasn't put off at all. Keeping his iron hold on her waist, Troy looked down at her and said simply, "All the more reason to say yes."

His words hung in the air between them – and just then it became abundantly clear how close they were standing. Unintentionally, Troy had pressed his body up against hers in order to keep her from getting away. Now he was seriously regretting getting so close – Gabriella had a certain effect on him that wasn't necessarily always a good thing. Especially not right then.

Troy realized that he had never been this close to Gabriella before – he hadn't even made physical contact with her before then. It was like wherever their bodies touched flames ignited. He could actually feel the goose bumps. It was unbelievable, what she did to him – vaguely, Troy wondered how she did it.

Great, Troy thought sourly. Now he sounded like some chick flick or a cheesy romance novel about a 'forbidden love', or 'a girl breaking down the wall around her soul mate's heart'. Yeah, right.

"You say yes, I'll let you go," he whispered softly, breaking the silence but still keeping his eyes glued on hers.

Gabriella didn't look away either, this time. She stared into his eyes blankly – it bothered Troy that he suddenly couldn't read her emotions. Finally, she answered, "Okay, I'll go."

------

**Okay, so I wasn't feeling the best about this chapter, so please tell me your honest opinion... IN A REVIEW!! Haha.**


	6. Worth It

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot and following minor characters: Alejandro, Matt, Nate, Alex, and Vincent. The song at the begining of the chapter is credited to Lifehouse, and the other two songs mentioned in this chapter are performed by the Dave Matthews Band. The rest is Disney's... (sob).

-

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **Okay, most of my author's note is going to be at the end of this chapter, because if I put it here then it would give the chapter away... and that wouldn't be fun at all. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the next installment of 'Emotions Unaccounted For'. Here are the stats for this fic so far, becuase I just love bragging: 76 reviews, 36 favs, 76 alerts, and 4745 HITS. Wow, thanks so much you guys!! You have no idea how inspiring all of this is. This chapter is dedicated to MineyMouse14, for her fantastic review - it's REALLY hard to sound like a natural guy, so it's nice to hear that I'm doing a good job. More about this chapter at the end of it (and I totally understand if you want to skip over it... I prolly would, too).

------

**Chapter 5: Worth It**

_  
__Desperate for changing  
Starving for truth  
I'm closer to where I started  
Chasing after you  
I'm falling even more in love with you  
Letting go of all I've held onto  
I'm standing here until you make me move  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you_

_-Hanging by a Moment, Lifehouse_

------

"Hey, Troy, I was wondering-"

"No," Troy said flatly, having no interest in hearing the end of the sentence. He didn't even look away from his iPod screen while replying, his eyes scanning the list of songs until finally settling on "Ants Marching". As always, Troy's music was turned down low so that he could easily hear the conversation going on at the table around him. Unbeknownst to his friends, of course.

Sighing, Raleigh leaned back and huffed, "Fine, then. I'll ask someone else."

"I don't think he cares," Sharpay commented idly from her spot next to Zeke in the booth across from Troy's. She took a dainty sip from her Diet Coke that Troy knew she had added some alcohol (most likely rum) to when the waiter wasn't looking. Sharpay wasn't one to get drunk, so Troy could only assume that she was doing it to look good. She did things like that – personally, Troy didn't get it. Maybe it was a girl thing: trying to look like something you're not.

But no, it was true of Chad, too. Chad, who pretended to act like he could get a good grade if he tried, when in truth he just didn't understand and was too proud to ask for help. But that was Chad for you. He was East High's player, the center of attention, and the second-best guy at school when it came to almost everything, including looks and basketball skills. He had to have something against him. Everyone did. Even Troy, although it wasn't like anyone else knew that.

Frowning subconsciously, he realized that it applied to everyone – all of the people he knew pretended to be something they weren't. He didn't, though. Troy made it clear what he liked and what he didn't like – and he expected everyone else to live with it. Troy didn't make allowances or change his view because of someone else. He had principles, and refused to give them up just because people didn't agree with him. That was what had gotten him to where he was in life. Whether that was a good thing or not, Troy had yet to decide.

If he had to be completely honest, he _did _hide his feelings. But that was completely different then spiking your drink so that people will think you're that type of person. Troy hid his feelings because people had no business knowing what he thought, not because he was afraid of what people would think.

Troy Bolton wasn't afraid of anything.

Pondering this, Troy watched as Zeke wrapped his arm around Sharpay's shoulder. Smiling down at her as she snuggled closer to him, Zeke added, "Besides, I don't think Troy's listening anymore."

_Wrong_. So very, _very_ wrong.

It was sad, really, how little his friends knew about him. Except for Sharpay, that is, who merely smirked at Zeke's comment, sending Troy a knowing look. Vaguely, he wondered how exactly she had figured it out – it wasn't like he had ever told her. But then, that was Sharpay – she seemed to know things by pure observation. It was one of the ways in which she and Troy were alike. As far as he was concerned, anything she had learned about him that was of any importance she had found out without his help.

Troy was the only person who noticed Sharpay's reaction. That was why no one stopped Chad when he said, "Well, since he can't here us, do any of you know what the hell has been up with him lately? It was so bad I practically had to drag him out of the house to come with us today. And it's _Saturday_."

Ah, yes, Saturday. The day that the entire gang – Troy, Chad, Zeke, Sharpay, Jason, Raleigh, and Ryan, occasionally with Chad's current girlfriend tagging along or Alejandro if he felt like it – spent the day doing whatever. Generally Saturday consisted of doing some sort of basketball pickup game in the morning. Afterwards the day continued with going out to lunch, then hanging at the mall or ice cream parlor before heading over to one of their houses to have a party for themselves. It was the rule that everyone went on Saturday. There were _some_ exceptions, though, when you could back out – like if you were on vacation or there was a basketball game. But you didn't skip because you didn't feel like it.

And that was exactly what Troy had wanted to do.

Of course, he hadn't said it out loud. In fact, the part about Chad dragging him out of the house was an exaggeration of the largest kind. Chad wouldn't be able to drag Troy out if he had tried to – and he certainly didn't have enough guts to even _begin _trying to stand up to Troy. Anyways, rules didn't really seem to apply to Troy – including the everyone-must-get-together-on-Saturday rule. But that was beside the point.

In truth, all Troy had said was that he wasn't in the mood to hang out, and that they should make it short. But Chad, being Chad, blew it all out of proportion. And so now the story had been twisted into Troy trying to get out of going altogether.

What Chad didn't realize was that everyone at the table had known him for long enough that they knew he was exaggerating. Well, except for the clueless and extremely gullible Jason, who added, "I know, man. First all those girls, and then back to none at all? It's completely fucked up."

"Well," Sharpay said thoughtfully, "I confronted him about it Tuesday, and there haven't been any sluts since then. Maybe something I said got to his head."

Troy knew what she was doing – he could tell by the way her eyes darted over to him as she said this that she was trying to get a reaction from him, to see if she was right. Mentally rolling his eyes, he gave Sharpay no reaction. She was the last person he would want to find out about something like this.

Well, actually, compared to everyone else, she might be the first person he'd tell. But, whatever – it's not like he ever would.

"Shar, since when has anything we've ever said made a difference in his life? Face it, this has to do with the part of Troy's life we don't know about," Zeke said simply. "And that means he doesn't want us to know. It's his problem, not ours."

"But it's more then that," Chad insisted. "He's all out of it – that's the only way I can think of explaining it. You've got to have noticed it!"

"Yeah," Raleigh agreed, sitting up a bit straighter, "it's been really weird – even at work."

"Well, I haven't noticed," Jason said, shrugging and stuffing a handful of French fries in his mouth. Sharpay wrinkled her nose in evident distaste, inching away from him and closer to Zeke, much to Zeke's pleasure. Chad rolled his eyes at Jason's remark, and Ryan snickered silently.

However, out of everyone, it was Jason's sister, Raleigh, who said, "Jase, you never notice _anything_. Actually, come to think of it, I'm surprised _Chad _noticed."

Troy watched as everyone laughed, save for Chad, who glowered moodily at Raleigh, pretending to be mad. Even_ his_ face, however, broke out into a smile as he laughed along good-naturedly.

It was, Troy reflected, a scene that perfectly reflected the group of friends. The joking and light-heartedness, and yet never anything deeper. Sure, they were always side by side, but that didn't mean that their bonds went any deeper then the surface. Sure, Sharpay and Ryan were close, as were Zeke and Jason – each of them had their 'person', but beyond that all of the relationships were never more then skin deep. It just happened that Troy's person was Chad, who never minded that Troy didn't get personal.

The truth was, they all looked like they were all together, but each one of them was really alone. Troy had learned that long ago, and he didn't mind. These people weren't ones he would be friends with forever – they were the people around him now, and he had to deal with them. That wasn't the way friendships were supposed to go; then again, maybe they were. Troy didn't know about that. All he knew was that his friends were nothing like the ones in books and movies. But that was okay with him.

Troy liked things as they were – he liked being unattached. Hell, he had been unattached ever since he entered kindergarten, when Sharpay dragged him over to meet her brother Ryan and Raleigh yelled at him for using her 'special' green crayon. Yes, Troy had definitely distanced himself back then, and even more so after he stood up to the big, scary first graders at recess. The 'big, scary first graders' meaning Chad, Jason, and Zeke, who then decided to take Troy under their wings.

"Hey, guys."

Troy looked up, vaguely taking note that his iPod was now playing Two Step. It was Alejandro who had spoken, his deep chocolate skin standing out brilliantly against the white t-shirt he was wearing. Everyone gave some sort of response as the sophomore slid into the seat across from Troy. Alejandro's eyes immediately found Troy's stone cold ones. Still, the younger basketball player was not put off, as Troy knew he wouldn't be. Alejandro simply nodded in Troy's direction and said, "Sorry I couldn't make the three-on-three at your house this morning – dentist appointment."

Shrugging, Troy replied, "Doesn't matter – it was about time we got a break from my dad anyways."

You could've heard a pin drop at that moment. The afternoon rush had died down, so Troy and his group of friends were the only people left in the restaurant save for one middle-aged couple and the workers. Sharpay leaned back, a rather evil glint in her eyes. Realization dawned on Alejandro's face as he observed the reactions of his friends.

Alejandro would have to be the closest thing to a mini-Troy you could get, except for the fact that instead of running the show, Alejandro chose to distance himself from it. Sometimes Troy wished that was a decision he had made – but it was too late now, no matter what he thought.

At a few of inches shy of six feet, Alejandro didn't look like a conventional basketball player. Sure, he was black, which many people automatically assumed meant he had an affiliation with the sport. However, his rather short stature (in comparison to others on the team) coupled with his unnaturally thin and sinewy frame made him come off as weak, which he most certainly wasn't. He pretty much quashed that idea his first day at East High, when he made Varsity – not starting, granted, but he still beat out several seniors for the position.

Chad was the first one to speak, leaning over to Zeke and whispering just loud enough that it was audible to Troy, "Did Troy just hear all of that?"

Troy stood up abruptly, making Chad – along with everyone else – jump in surprise. He mentally shook his head at his friends' jumpiness, but didn't comment on it. Troy had that effect on many people. Well, really on everyone, with the possible exception of Sharpay. And Gabriella.

"I'm out," Troy said coolly. "See you guys."

"Wait, where are you going?" Chad asked, confusedly.

Troy didn't reply, because he didn't know the answer himself.

-------

A few minutes and several stop signs later, Troy found himself pulling into the local park. After leaving the restaurant, he had gone into autopilot, driving without any idea as to what his intentions were. Somehow, Troy's autopilot had led him to the park. Why, he had no idea. Finding no point in going back at that point, he merely steered his car into a parking spot and shut it off. Then Troy just sat there, staring out at the joggers and kids playing on the playground and dogs fetching Frisbees without really seeing any of it.

Now that he had nothing to focus on, it was impossible to keep Gabriella out of his head any longer. Thoughts and images of her flooded into his brain, and they refused to go away. He could feel her pressed up against him in the bathroom, hear her annoyed voice at the bookstore.

Troy groaned inwardly, pounding his fist angrily against his steering wheel and narrowly missed the car horn.

_Gabriella._

The name sent shivers down his spine.

She wasn't supposed to make him feel like this. These emotions, whatever they were, weren't right at all. But now he was stuck with them, that was clear enough. They weren't going away. The question was how to deal with them.

Troy got out of the car, slamming the driver's door shut violently, as his mind still attempted to comprehend the question. As if trying to buy himself time, he dug his hands deep into his pockets and began walking around aimlessly. Weaving in and out of the trees, Troy observed the passersby idly.

There were three girls and two boys jump roping, all of them chanting some sort of rhyme through their giggles as a few sets of parents kept watch. On Troy's other side were a father and his daughter playing catch with a baseball. He vaguely admired the girl's strong arm before his eyes shifted to analyze the two-on-two basketball game going on over at the newly paved basketball court.

No high school students ever went to the park – first of all because it was deemed "uncool" and secondly because the park was right on the town border of Albuquerque. This meant the park was shared by Albuquerque and the next town over, where West High students lived. East High students didn't want to run into people from West High, and vice versa. Therefore, no one from either school went to the park.

Well, that wasn't quite true. Troy went – and he supposed others must have at times also. However, since he had never seen anyone else he had no one to pinpoint exactly.

Still, although his information was not altogether accurate, it did mean that Troy could deduce that the basketball players were college kids. That certainly made sense – they looked the right age, and Troy was almost certain he could recognize a few of the faces. It was a long distance for his eyes, but he knew one of the shirtless players was definitely Matt, and Nate was lounging in the grass on the sidelines with Alex.

Alex was visiting for the summer from John Hopkins, where she was intending to study to become a doctor. She was Matt's girlfriend of two years and they seemed as steady as a couple could be, considering the fact Matt was attending school across the country, at UCLA. Both were going into their second year of college with bright futures – Matt's including a starting position on the college basketball team as well as NBA scouts.

Nate, on the other hand, was a year younger then the other two. He was headed off to Harvard at the end of the summer, on full scholarship. He had come to Albuquerque the summer before his first year of high school, and immediately hit it off with Matt. No one really knew why, because Matt was the popular jock (the Varsity basketball captain in his senior year, when Troy was the only freshman on the team), and Nate was the freaky genius from New York City's Upper East Side. Still, Nate became Matt's other half, fueled only more so by the fact that he was so intelligent he was taking many of the same classes as Matt.

Despite this, everyone was surprised that they remained friends – especially when Matt graduated and went to UCLA.

Even Troy and Chad's friendship was more understandable. Despite the age difference, they had known each other since Troy was in kindergarten and had always been on the same basketball team. If anything, it was their love and talent for the sport that made them friends, if only because there was no one else that fit the description of 'best friend' for either of them. When they were younger, Troy and Chad stuck together – and by the time they realized they had become 'best friends' in the eyes of everyone else, it was too late to back out. At least, that was how Troy saw it.

With Nate and Matt, however, there was nothing they had in common, nothing to hold them together. They were friends not out of default, but because they _wanted _to be. They wanted to stick together, no matter what happened. And, as happy as Troy was with his life, a part of him was always discontent. A part of him always wanted whatever Nate and Matt seemed to have.

Now, however, he wanted what Matt had with _Alex_. The thing was, he didn't want only that, and not just with some girl. He wanted _more_ then that – and with Gabriella.

This realization petrified Troy more then he could even comprehend. Wanting, needing to get away (especially before Matt, Nate, or Alex noticed him), Troy spun around and began robotically walking in the other direction. None of his fear or uncertainty showed on the outside, but inside he was a mess of emotions.

It came down to one thing: was she worth it?

She was Gabriella Montez – the _enemy_. That part of the picture was impossible to forget, at least entirely. And the fact that they were made to hate each other should've mattered, but it didn't, not to Troy. He still wanted to go out with her, to give it a shot. Gabriella would be a change; she would be different. He could feel it. Troy wouldn't be able to tell his friends, that was for sure, or his family. It would be a secret.

But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Wait. That was assuming he even decided she was worth his trouble. But even as he considered it, something inside of Troy told him that backing out wasn't an option now. This was so much more then sleeping with some girl. This was a girl that he couldn't keep out of his mind, that he could stop wondering and daydreaming about. He couldn't stop seeing her, and all he wanted to do was talk about her.

So, was Gabriella Montez worth it?

Troy looked up. He had been walking in some random direction for several minutes, mulling over the mystery that was how he felt about Gabriella. And, of course, someone up there decided that it was the perfect moment for Troy to lay eyes on Gabriella. She was sitting several yards away, leaning against a tree and reading a book. Her jeans were dark and worn, her sweatshirt was gray and ratty and several sizes too big. On the front of it the words 'West High' were emblazoned in large blue lettering.

She wasn't anything special – at least not by her clothes. But damn, no one had made his heart stop like that before. Stop and then accelerate to an impossible speed.

So was Gabriella worth it?

Troy paused, his eyes still examining her as she turned a page and leaned into her book intently.

_Yes_. Yes, she was.

And with this in mind, he started to walk over to her.

Troy purposely positioned himself so that his shadow fell over her, in the hopes that she would look up and see him. That would mean he wouldn't have to say anything to get her attention, which was good, because Troy had no idea what to say. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud, obviously.

The ploy worked. He watched with triumph disguised by apathy as she looked up from her book, confusion clearly written across her face. Then she saw him, and the confusion turned into something Troy couldn't quite decipher. There were far too many emotions to untangle. Closing her book, Gabriella evenly said in a voice that wasn't quite happy, but not angry either, "It's you, again."

"Yeah, it's me," Troy said, stuffing his hands deeper into his jean pockets. Nodding to her book, he added, "You lost your place."

Gabriella eyed him before saying, "I'm rereading it – got bored of watching a bunch of boys play video games in my house, so I decided to reread a few of my favorite parts. I'll find them again later."

"Oh," he said, secretly impressed. There weren't many girls that would give up staring at boys for rereading a book. He snuck a look at the cover and realized it was a paperback three-in-one Lord of the Rings trilogy book that was significantly worn. He jumped slightly, looking up quickly at her face as she spoke again.

"You're not stalking me, right?"

Troy smiled wryly, shrugging and looking past Gabriella out into the park as he replied distantly, "No, just needed to escape."

"From what?" she asked, and Troy could've sworn that he had heard genuine curiosity in her voice. But that was impossible, right?

"My friends."

She raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the tree, saying, "Friends are _supposed_ to be the ones you run to when you need to escape."

"Well, my life's not exactly ordinary," Troy said wryly.

She gave him a sort of half-smile, commenting, "So I've noticed. Anyways, before I tell you to go away I need to know when that just-as-friends "date" is. You know, so I don't make plans, or whatever."

"So you're not putting up a fight?" Troy asked, successfully hiding his surprise. He took a few steps closer and crossed his arms loosely.

"Well," Gabriella shrugged, "I told you I would, didn't I? Might as well make the most of it instead of sulking. So, any thoughts?"

"What about now?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Troy immediately regretted saying them. Gabriella blinked up at him, and for a second Troy was sure she was going to say no. But then something changed in her eyes, and suddenly she was closing her book, saying, "That sounds okay. Might as well get it over with, right?"

It took him a second to realize that meant yes.

------------

**Okay, so this is a chapter that you'll either like or hate, in my opinion. Personally, as the writer, I like it. However, if I was a reader I most likely wouldn't like it. This is because I like slow-paced stories, and if I was reading I probably wouldn't have wanted Troy to realize how deep his feelings were, OR for Gabriella to warm up to Troy so quickly. **

**It had to happen, though, for several reasons. So I just have to explain myself, more for my own peace of mind then anything else. Firstly, Troy's too smart NOT to realize that he's fallen for Gabriella. The conflict that Troy doesn't know his true feelings would be able to work for another fic, but not this one. I have to stick with Troy's character, which means I can't make him out to be oblivious. As for Gabriella warming up to Troy, it's important to know that she's not a typical fiery Gabriella, and I don't want her to be like that. She's normal. And what normal girl wouldn't feel flattered if a guy persists in wanting to go out with her to the extent Troy did? Also, I want to point out that the whole story isn't going to revolve around Troy trying to ask Gabriella out - that's just a tiny peice of the puzzle. There's going to be much more in the cards for them, and in order to keep this fic from becoming 100 pages long I need to keep it moving.**

**I would also like to point out that I never intended to have ANY new characters in here, so I'm sorry if they annoy you. Oftentimes I don't really like OCs myself, but Nate and Alejandro especially just wouldn't go away. I have long, long, backgrounds on all of my OCs, which I had to cut out because I know none of you would be interested. The point is that I'll try to limit how much my OCs are in the story, and just yell at me if they're annoying you. Honestly, they'd probably annoy me, too, which is why I want you to tell me. You tend to see things differently when you're the one writing, because they're your creations, you know? **

**Anyways, sorry about all of that ranting. I've had TONS of homework lately, but I'll try to update as soon as I can. PLEASE REVIEW!! Oh, and sorry if I haven't responded to your review personally - I replied to the ones that were longer and offered more feedback because I haven't had a lot of time on the computer, and wanted to focus on writing.**


	7. Just to See Your Face

Chapter 6: Something About You

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters - you know which ones.

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **Okay, okay, please don't throw tomatoes at me, haha. I know it's been an insanely long time since I've updated, and I AM sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I did warn you that I didn't know how often I could update, what with being in a high school where I don't get home until 6:30 and then have to take a shower and do all of my homework. And that's later on the days that I'm able to hang out with friends or have dinner at school. So, no, I'm not giving up this story... it just might take a bit of time to get it updated. The good news is that the week after this is exam week, and then the week after that is Thankgiving break. And since for exam week I only go to school to take the exam (there's one a day, and each is from 1-3 hours), and there is no school AT ALL for the week of Thanksgiving, I should have plenty of time to write ). About time, because in a chapter or two something REALLY big happens. **FYI:** This chapter is a bit confusing. Basically, italics are flashbacks to Troy and Gabriella's "date", seeing as this takes place the day after. I really tried to write the date full-out, but it just didn't come out right. Besides, the plot needs to move along. As for the dates, they're just to clarify when everything takes place. Oh, and if any of you watch Lost (like I did, before it went bad), just pretend that before and after each flashback there's a WHOOSH-ing sound, that's what I do ).

Time to brag now! The current stats are 95 reviews, 6982 hits, 43 favs, and 84 alerts. OMG THANKS SO MUCH!! I seriously love, love, love you guys.

Lastly, this chapter is dedicated to xxxNaley forevaxxx for getting me back on track and getting me to FINALLY update. Thanks you guys!!

**Chapter 6: Just to See Your Face**

_Get a load of me, get a load of you  
Walking' down the street, and I hardly know you  
It's just like we were meant to be_

What if this is just the beginning  
We're already wet, and we're gonna go swimming  
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you  
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you  
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it  
So tell me  
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you

_- Liz Phair, Why Can't I?_

**Sunday, 10:31 AM:**

"Gabs, do you love me?"

Gabriella groaned, rolling over in her bed and pulling the covers over her head, trying to block out the sunlight as well as all sound. For a few moments, it seemed that she was succeeding. Snuggling deeper into her bed, she tried to grasp onto the last remnants of sleep. Maybe, if she thought hard enough, she could go back to sleep…

Unfortunately, this thought was dashed a moment later, when a loud crash was heard, and then a thump. Gabriella scowled, turning yet again and pushing back the covers. Glaring at the figure sprawled out on the floor next to her over-turned desk chair, she snapped, "I'm _trying_ to sleep – just because you were stupid enough to drink enough alcohol to kill you last night, doesn't mean I should be deprived of sleep. Just count your blessings that I'm not telling Mom, alright?"

"Oww," Vincent moaned on the floor, his voice still a bit slurred. He was clutching his knee – it didn't take a genius like Gabriella to figure out that he had accidentally run into her chair.

Gabriella sighed.

She should've been surprised – but the truth was that she wasn't. Every weekend that her mother left for a business trip, Vincent would disappear to some party, only to return utterly drunk. Usually there would be some girl stuck to his arm, which would be Gabriella's cue to call Taylor and ask to sleepover. Then the morning would come, with Vincent apologizing profusely and begging for Gabriella to cure his hangover.

Maybe it was the affect of spending the day before with Troy, or maybe it was just that she had reached her breaking point – Gabriella didn't know. It was _something_, though – something made her said coolly, "Try to make it to the bathroom before you get sick. If not, you're cleaning it up and paying for whatever you ruined, got it?"

Vincent stared at his sister in disbelief as she got up and stalked out of the room and down the stairs. After stomping down a few steps, Gabriella slowed her pace, at the same time quieting her footsteps. As she did, she had time to reflect on what she had said. Had that really been her?

Gabriella wasn't a pushover, that was for sure – but when it came to her brother, she had always been his caretaker. It didn't matter that Vincent was a year older for them. He played the role of her father, and in return she played the role of his mother.

It was ironic, really, because neither parent was dead. Still, when their mother was home – which was only on weekdays and game weekends, really – she was more like Vincent's coach than a mother to Gabriella or Vincent. And as for their dad, well, he may have lived only a half hour away, but his time was primarily taken up by his girlfriend. Besides, the fact that neither parent was observant enough to discover Vincent's law-breaking "habits" nor Gabriella's increasing unhappiness was proof enough that they weren't sufficient parents.

Well, law-breaking was a little bit harsh. He wasn't a murderer or sex offender or anything that severe. However, occasional drug use and underage drinking, not to mention driving while under the influence, were still illegal. And Gabriella was sure that once Vincent turned eighteen in a couple of months he would soon be having sex with girls in their school who were still under-aged.

And so it fell onto Vincent and Gabriella to parent each other. It would've been an endearing situation, normally. In fact, it was at the beginning. Now, though, all it ensured was that Vincent got away with being a partying, idiotic jock and that Gabriella wouldn't get a boyfriend until she would be able to escape her over-protective brother.

Not exactly the good life, Gabriella knew. But that was the way it worked.

Which was why it was so out-of-character for Gabriella to refuse her brother.

Shrugging to herself, she chalked it up as still being a bit out of it after spending the day with Troy Bolton. _Troy Bolton_, of all people. What had she been thinking?

Gabriella laughed softly to herself as she entered the kitchen – well, whatever she had been thinking, she had certainly had the right idea.

"_No way! You seriously won backstage tickets to see Lifehouse!? That's insane!" Gabriella exclaimed over their food as they sat in a small restaurant._

_Taking a bite of his hamburger, Troy shrugged. He swallowed and then leaned back as he said, "Yeah, it was pretty cool – at first I was just going to sell them on eBay or something, but Shar threatened to claw my eyeballs out if I gave them to anyone, so the two of us went."_

_"Shar?" Gabriella asked confusedly._

_Troy directed a hesitant glance at her as he told her, "Sharpay Evans – the ice queen of East High. She's a pain, alright, but out of all my friends she's the one I can stand to be around the longest."_

_"You know, I think the point of a friend is that you actually enjoy hanging out with them," Gabriella said dryly, reaching over the table for the salt._

_"Mhmm, in theory," Gabriella could've sworn she heard Troy murmur, more to himself then to her, but he said it so quietly she started to second-guess herself. _

Gabriella couldn't help but smile as flashes from the night before accosted her. The smile, however, faded almost immediately. As this happened, a frown replaced it.

Had she been too eager with him? Too in awe? Or was it the opposite, and she had come off as uninterested. And what about her personality? Did he think she was too innocent, or boring? Maybe she sounded too wild – urg, why was this so difficult!?

She mulled over these questions as she considered what to eat. Just for the sake of doing something, she poured herself a glass of orange juice – which she didn't even particularly like – and pulled out some waffles. Sticking them in the toaster over, her frowned deepened as she tried to remember…

_"Seriously," Gabriella laughed, "you got her to believe you had been there the entire time? It's like you have everyone wrapped around your finger."_

_Troy chuckled, opening his mouth to reply. He froze, however, his gaze riveted on the window that looked out at the front parking lot of the restaurant. Gabriella followed his gaze, freezing also when she caught sight of the car pulling into the parking lot. It wouldn't have matter, really, except for the fact that as the car turned into an open parking space, a West High Knights bumper sticker was clearly visible on the back._

"_Maybe we should go…" Gabriella said slowly, her eyes never straying from the car. As she watched, the lights went out as the driver pulled the keys out of the ignition. She averted her eyes as soon as she saw the first door open – she didn't need to see the people in order to know it was Taylor, Colette, Josh, and Gio. _

_Troy nodded, grabbing her hand as he slid out of the booth. He said, "Yeah, good idea."_

_Gabriella looked down at her hand in his. For some reason, it didn't seem that surprising. Everything just fit, like that was where her hand was supposed to be, in Troy's. The restaurant had been Troy's idea – in fact, Gabriella had never been there before. Therefore, she was forced to let him lead her through the kitchens and out the back door, where the garbage dumpster was. _

_Wrinkling her nose at the odor, Gabriella watched apprehensively as Troy peered around the corner of the building, and then quickly pulled his head back. Turning towards Gabriella, he whispered, "They're coming in."_

_She nodded, glancing around nervously. What would her friends do if they saw her with _Troy Bolton_? Nothing good, that was for certain._

_Turning towards the kitchen window, Gabriella blinked. Through the kitchen window, there was a clear view of not only the kitchen, but half of the restaurant. And that half just happened to include where her friends were currently being seated._

_"Troy," she murmured. She gave him just enough time to see why she was panicking before grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him down to the ground with her, so that they weren't visible through the window._

_"So," Troy said casually, "I guess this means that 'us' is going to be kept under wraps, huh?"_

_Barely able to hear herself over her rapidly beating heart, Gabriella replied breathlessly, "Yeah, guess so."_

Gabriella blinked as it suddenly became clear what the most important question was… Why did she care?

It made no sense. Troy Bolton had never even factored into her life until that day at the Baylor's Restaurant, and now she couldn't stop thinking about him. How had she gotten from one point to the other? Her instinct had told her from the very beginning that she couldn't trust herself around him… everything would've been a lot simpler if she had listened to her gut and kept her distance from the start.

Vincent's gagging noises from the upstairs bathroom proved to be the perfect distraction from these thoughts about Troy, most of which she was afraid to expand on. Sighing, she internally battled with herself. Be a good sister and help her brother, or let him suffer?

The good girl inside of her held out. Shaking her head as more retching noises ensued, Gabriella filled a glass with water and stirred in some baking soda. Cringing at the cloudy liquid, she set it aside for when Vincent came down.

He didn't wait long.

The waffles were done, and Gabriella was in the process of getting the maple syrup when the elephant-like feet of her brother slowly thumped down the stairs. A moment or so later he appeared, and as he did Gabriella couldn't help but cringe at his appearance.

Vincent had horribly large bags under his eyes, with his stubble and bed-head hair completing the hung-over look. His clothes looked most definitely slept in, although it wasn't like there were many clothing articles to judge. His attired consisted of jeans, a muscle shirt, and, well… that was about it.

If it had been anyone else, Gabriella would've thought he hadn't looked too bad. But it was just Vincent, and thinking of him in that light wasn't right at all.

"Waffles?" Vincent asked, rubbing his eyes. "Thanks, sis, but I'm not really up for eating."

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to turn to look at him as she said, "Your glass is on the counter."

Gabriella eventually glanced at her brother as she shut the fridge, syrup in hand. Setting it in front of her plate, she sat down at the bar stool that was positioned at the kitchen's island. Vincent was eyeing the drink with evident distaste and dread. Looking up at his sister, he asked, "Gabs, how long will it take for this to kick in?"

"I wouldn't know," she said rather sharply as she began loudly cutting up the waffles. "I don't need to use it."

Vincent blinked. "Right."

Gabriella shook her head, eating her waffles in silence even after Vincent finished gagging down the disgusting hangover cure. They both sat (or stood, in Vincent's case) in silence, with the beeping of Vincent's cell phone breaking it occasionally as he sent text messages.

Gabriella had a feeling that she knew what the text messages were about, and was proven correct when, ten minutes later, she heard the doorbell ring while she was on the computer checking her e-mail.

It was less then ten seconds later when Vincent opened the French doors that led to the office and stuck his head in, saying, "Hey, Gabs, Amanda's here. We're going to go and hang out at her house, okay?"

He waggled his eyebrows, and Gabriella didn't even try to hide her disgust as Amanda came up behind him, wearing a belly shirt, denim mini, bright red boots, and most likely nothing else. Vincent turned towards Amanda, looking considerably more awake then he had a half hour before.

"Why am I not surprised?" Gabriella muttered under her breath as his face lit up at the cheerleader's come-hither look. Suavely, but with an undeniably eager expression, he made to walk out of the office again. She watched the cheerleader giggle and then send her a death glare – as if Gabriella was a threat. Ha, like Vincent would ever choose his sister over a quick sex session.

Gabriella scoffed at the very thought.

Hearing her, Vincent paused and turned around. He frowned at his sister confusedly, already halfway out the office door, but Gabriella just shook her head and turned back to the computer. It wasn't like he'd listen to her, anyways.

Still, a part of her still felt the raw, cold rejection as she heard Vincent's footsteps, and the door slam behind him. Shaking her head as if hoping to rid herself of the hurt, Gabriella stared at the computer screen blankly for an indefinite amount of time. Then, suddenly, she stood up and walked up the stairs, heading for her room…

…Only to stop short when she opened it and looking inside.

"What the _hell_?"

**Sunday, 10:31 AM:**

"Great basket, Troy. That's the way to end it!"

Troy mentally rolled his eyes – certainly a reoccurring theme – and ran after the ball, smoothly catching it within a few steps and twirling it on his finger idly. Anything to delay turning around and having a buddy-buddy talk with his father, which seemed to be a mandatory part of each practice they had together.

Of course, what Troy didn't realize was that the "talks" he had with his father were a lot less buddy-buddy then what would be expected.

The practice had been extra long that day, mostly because of the fact that Troy had skipped the closed practice they had planned for the day before in order to hang out with Gabriella. Thinking back on what had happened, Troy decided that it was definitely worth the elongated work out.

"_Okay, uh, Lifehouse?"_

_Troy shrugged, "Tolerable."_

_"Urg," Gabriella groaned. "You know, the point of this game is to say either hate or love, not anything in between!" _

_Despite her complaints, however, Gabriella didn't seem to expect any reaction from Troy. After all, they'd been playing the game for the better part of an hour, in which she had pointed out copious times that 'tolerable' and 'not preferable' were not valid answers. And though he remained unfazed to her, Troy secretly took amusement in the fact that, though they hardly knew each other, she was already braver around him then any of his guy friends ever were. _

_Troy smiled inwardly before merely replying, "I'm not the love sort of person. So, what about basketball?"_

_Gabriella wrinkled her nose before saying, "Not my thing – my mom and brother might be obsessive, but I'm at a loss when it comes to sports, period._

After going to get food and then ice cream, he and Gabriella had spent two hours just walking around the park, talking about anything and everything. And he loved it – he loved talking to her. She was quiet at first, but it was only a few minutes in before she became bubbly and alive. He liked that. She wasn't as loud or talkative as Sharpay, but he never had to fight to make conversation. Everything just seemed to flow.

He liked that.

"Now _that's _the dedication I like to see in my son!"

Inwardly cringing, Troy turned around to face his beaming father. Clapping his unenthusiastic son on the back, Coach Bolton definitely remained oblivious to Troy's discontent. Indiscreetly checking his watch, Troy wondered vaguely how much longer he would have to suffer through basketball talk. There had been so much of it lately he was sure that basketball didn't have the same thrill it used to.

If he had to be completely honest, however, Troy knew that it had lost that thrill a while back.

Basketball was the only thing Troy had ever shown any real interest in for all of his life – and that was simply because it was the only thing that gave him a thrill – the adrenaline rush that he lived for. It came so rarely, except when he played. When he played, it was like one adventure after another. He just couldn't get enough.

But then it was like the thrill – the burst of energy – when away, and he was stuck with playing a sport that was more of a chore then something he enjoyed.

Gabriella, though, she had brought that spark back into his life – that burst of energy. She gave him an adrenaline rush that he hadn't had for years. Vaguely, Troy was reminded of the way that Jason was addicted to drugs – it was like Troy himself was addicted to Gabriella.

She made him feel… but was that a good thing?

Troy shook his head slightly – he preferred when basketball had made him feel. At least basketball wasn't living; it couldn't talk back.

Robotically, he followed his father over to the porch. Still breathing slightly heavier then usual, Troy grabbed his water bottle and took several gulps before putting it back down. He watched his father, who sighed contentedly as he looked out at the basketball court in their backyard.

"So, Troy," he said, still not facing his son, "what were you up to yesterday?"

Troy shrugged, another memory coming to mind.

"_Let's do something different now," Gabriella decided suddenly, instead of asking another question, as they had been doing for at least a half hour, "a different way of getting to know each other."_

_Troy gave her a sort of half smile, observing her wryly and saying, "I'm guessing you have an idea in mind already." _

_She grinned sheepishly, and Troy knew he was right. It secretly pleased him that he had her pegged like that – there was so much more of her he had yet to uncover, but it was a start, at least. Brightly, she suggested, "What about I ask you a question and then you ask me one?"_

_Troy considered the idea and then nodded slowly, saying, "Okay, that sounds good."_

_"You first, then."_

_He took his time, frowning and considering all of the questions he wanted to ask her. Troy wanted to ask her everything – he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know what made her Gabriella Montez. Finally, he settled with a simple question, asking, "When's your birthday?"_

_"November twenty-eighth. What about you?"_

_"October fourth," Troy answered automatically. Frowning, he considered his next question. He watched as Gabriella nodded, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ears. Blinking and shaking his head slightly, he vaguely wondered why he was so mesmerized. His frown deepening, Troy asked, "Uh, what's your favorite color?"_

_Gabriella took her time answering, considering the question as if it was a matter of life or death. Troy found himself strangely impatient as he waited for her answer. He watched her carefully as she mulled over the question, and though he loved being able to examine her as he was, he was also unexpectedly eager to hear her answer. Troy had never been like this before – he was usually unfailingly patient, if only because nothing was ever important enough to intrigue him._

_But Gabriella Montez intrigued him, for some reason that Troy didn't fully understand. Considering this, he realized that it wasn't one particular trait or characteristic that caught his gaze – it was everything put together that made her so wonderful. It was her intelligence and her tomboyish clothes. It was the way she always brushed her hair away from her face, and how she was so adverse to all of the things girls usually cared about. It was the way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the sound of her voice, and so much more. And though he had only spent a half hour or so with her, he already knew that she was definitely worth it._

_"Purple."_

_Troy was suddenly jerked out of his thoughts. Disoriented – something he didn't recall ever being before – he asked, "What?"_

_"Purple," Gabriella repeated. It took Troy a second to remember the question, but once he did, a slow smile spread across his face. Out of all of the colors, he hadn't expected purple. Blue or red, maybe. But not purple. "It's beautiful in any shade, but I like dark purple the best. It has character. So, what's your favorite band?"_

_"Dave Matthews Band," Troy answered immediately, and fired back, "What's your favorite TV show?"_

"Grey's Anatomy_ – my guilty pleasure. And I love _Friends _reruns, too."_

_Troy grinned. Sharpay was a die-hard _Grey's Anatomy_ fan, too. He had a brief vision of the two girls sitting on the couch in Sharpay's den, popcorn in their laps. Their eyes were glued to the screen as Meredith and – what was his name? McDreamy? – were passionately making out in the on-call room. Then they were laughing as Cristina rejoices over the latest tragedy that has the ER filled with bloody patients._

_Okay, that wasn't right at all._

_Sharpay and Gabriella would never be friends – _ever_. In fact, if Troy had his way they would never even meet. Sharpay belonged to the part of his world that was East High, and Gabriella, well, she was a part of his world that no one else knew about._

_And he liked it that way._

The question, in Troy's opinion, wasn't what he had done the day before. It was what he was going to do in the free day he had ahead of him. Okay, so maybe not _free_, per say. He had work starting at four, but that was hours away. And that meant hours of Gabriella time.

But how?

Troy frowned, wondering vaguely where she lived. Well, that was easy enough to look up. Mapquest, anyone? No, the real problem was ensuring that Coach Montez or Vincent didn't see him.

"So, Dad, do you mind if I go and call Chad? We were planning on putting a game together with the teams – JV and Varsity. What do you think?"

His father was all over it, of course, and therefore didn't make anything out of the fact that Troy made several phone calls in the next five minutes. What his father didn't know was that Troy wasn't calling multiple people, he was only recalled one person – and she wasn't on the basketball team.

Once he had established that Gabriella wasn't going to pick up her cell phone, Troy sighed, throwing it down onto the couch with surprising force, considering he had just upgraded his phone to a much more expensive one.

Both of his parents, who were in the room at the time (his mother was on the phone and his father watching some sort of sports game) jumped in shock. Troy hardly ever showed this much emotion,_ ever_.

"Troy, is something wrong?" his mother asked.

He didn't reply. Troy just gave the phone one last look before storming out the door. Then, without a clear idea of why or where he was going, he began walking down the road.

Troy didn't even know why he was mad in the first place. So Gabriella hadn't answered – big deal. But it was, it was a very big deal. She mattered to him, more then anyone else in the world. No one mattered to Troy, even his family didn't – the people who had nurtured him and had known him since the day he was born.

But after such a short time, Gabriella mattered. And it was just hitting him exactly how much she mattered.

Troy came back to earth just in time to realize he could hear voices on the usually quiet street.

"Oh, _Vincent_!" a female voice exclaimed, her voice rather like a moan.

Troy blinked. There was_ no_ way that it was that easy. But it was, because just ten seconds later Vincent Montez came into view, a leech-like slut attached to him. He easily detached her so that he could get into the driver's seat of his car, and the girl got into the passenger's side. Troy ducked into the woods separating the Montez's house from the next house as Vincent began backing his car out.

Holding his breath, Troy stayed where he was even after Vincent was long gone. Then, once he was sure no one else was coming, Troy came out of hiding.

There was only one car in the driveway, and once he got closer Troy was able to see that inside were a few CDs that had to be Gabriella's, unless Coach Montez listened to Fall Out Boy, All-American Rejects, Panic! At the Disco, and the Fray. Still, the garage door was shut, so Troy had no idea whether her mother was home.

Troy swore. That meant he had to hide – and fast, in case Coach Montez decided to look out the window.

Clearly not thinking straight, Troy ran through the gate leading to the backyard and ducked into the trees there. Once he was sure no one had seen him, Troy thought about how he could get in.

Well, there was always the option of climbing through a window – if he got caught Coach Montez would just accuse him of trying to vandalize something of Vincent's.

His eyes drifting upwards, Troy got a better idea.

There was a balcony – and a tree right next to it. From what he could see of the room, it most definitely was Gabriella's. At least, it wasn't a guy's room, or a mother's room. Not bothering to put any more thought into his plan, Troy ran up to the tree and began to climb.

It was incredibly stupid of her, but Troy still thanked Gabriella a thousand times over for leaving her balcony door unlocked. That was the only reason he was able to get in, shut the door, and turn around before Gabriella entered the room.

Troy chuckled as her mouth dropped open and she asked, "What the _hell_?"

"Hey, Gabi."

**So, we get to hear more about Gabriella's home life, Vincent appears, and Troy becomes semi-romantic. I was happy I could finally write a bit of Gabriella's view of things... I didn't get a lot into her feelings, but that will happen more later. And Taylor should make an appearance soon, as well. Maybe Zeke, too... if not him, definitely Sharpay.**

**Oh, and now I have an insanely weird question for everyone. You don't have to answer, but if you want to I'll be forever in your debt. Well, not really, but whatever. So, I just was wondering when everyone pictured Ryan and Sharpay's birthday being. I'm not really sure, but I already have something planned for Sharpay's birthday and I need to find the right place to fit it ). Yes, I know it's weird. I was thinking the summer - that's what would work best for this fic. But then they'd either have to be really young for their grade or really old for their grade. So, any opinions would be greatly appreciated. I'll prolly dedicated the chapter to you... who knows?**

**On a different note, Sorry all of the flashbacks and times are so confusing - if you have an idea on how to make it easier, please tell me!! Obviously, in the next chapter we have lots of Troyella interactions, and if everything goes according to plan, a big plot point will happen in chapter 8. THANKS AND PLEASE REVIEW!!**


	8. Feelings You Can't Deny

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, you know which ones. Oh, and the movies _Hitch_ and _Enemy of the State_ are not mine, obviously.

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**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **cuppycakes (though more commonly known as Steph)

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **Well, at first I had a tough time getting going with this chapter. But over the weekend I swear I had some sort of brainblast (yes, I happened to walk in on my brother watching Jimmy Neutron recently). Anyways, in between several West Wing marathons, shopping escapades, and debates with my parents about when I get my new iPod Touch (which is really a Christmas present, but my brother and I each get our new "touches" early cause his old mini just died on him evil grin), I was able to write most of this chapter in two days. So, these are the fruits of my labor. I started writing the next chapter, and I have to say it's going to be my favorite so far... until chapter 9, that is...

Like I said, this chapter is dedicated to writersblock142 and hersheyskiss because they both gave me fabulous ideas for Sharpay and Ryan's birthday!! I have decided their birthday is September 18, for reasons I can't say right now. And thanks to writersblick 142 I can safely tell everyone Sharpay will definately be having a New Years extravaganza. Just to tell you, this story started out on June 24, when Troy first sees Gabriella. In the story, it is now July 22 - the point of me telling you this is to say that time moves quickly. Although, I think it will slow down in the somewhat near future. This is either going to be a VERY long fic, or a few fics put together. I'm not sure which yet. If you have a preference, tell me ).

**The current tally is 115 reviews, 9450 hits, 60 favs, and 101 story alerts. OMG thanks everyone!! I owe you a ton!! As of the end of this chapter, there are roughly 26,000 words (but the exact tally will show once I actually post this chapter), and 61 pages. However, I have a bunch of other tidbits (not to mention the one-shot that gave me the idea to write the full 'Emotions'). Altogether, everying I have for this fic adds up to more then 40,000 words and 90 pages. I know, I'm in shock, too. I can't even begin to tell you how thankful I am for your support ). I LOVE YOU GUYS!! Anyways, sorry for the emotional stuff... enjoy chapter 7!!**

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**Chapter 7: Feelings You Can't Deny**

_Now I'm sure that I won't forget you  
And I thank my lucky stars  
That you are who you are  
And not just another lovely lady  
Sent down to break my heart _

Isn't it amazing a man like me  
Can feel this way  
Tell me how much longer  
It can grow stronger every day  
How much longer  


_- Your Smiling Face, James Taylor_

------

"_Hey, Gabi."_

She froze, her eyes glued to Troy's figure, standing in front of her. He was wearing only a wife beater and basketball shorts, which did nothing to help the stupid hot and tingly feeling that was flowing through her body.

He looked so sure of himself, so put together. Gabriella had no idea how he did it. He made her so disoriented – if he was doing it to any other girl, she would've found it amusing. But, no, it was her. And that made it not funny at all.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she finally blurted, hating herself for letting him take her by surprise.

Troy shrugged, unfazed. He knew by the look in her eyes that she was happy to see him – almost as happy as he was to see her. Finally he said simply, "I thought I'd drop in to say hi."

"My mom could've seen you; _Vincent _could've seen you! How stupid can you get Bolton?" she practically screamed, informing Troy that the house was most definitely devoid of anyone but them. If someone had been home, Troy knew, she would've been softer.

Inwardly a bit more comfortable knowing this information, Troy shrugged and said, "Well, I had no way of knowing whether your mother was home – but I knew you were because of your car, and I saw Vincent, erm, leave. Among other things."

"You sure he wasn't having sex against some tree?" Gabriella asked coolly, hoping that Troy couldn't see through her indifference.

He did.

Though he couldn't really pinpoint why, an astounding amount of hatred for Vincent Montez surged through him at hearing the hurt and anger in her voice. All he wanted to do at that moment was run out and crush the pathetic excuse for a human – Troy's muscles tensed as in his mind he said everything that he wished he could tell Vincent in person. But he couldn't, because that was just how it worked.

Okay, so maybe he _could _pinpoint why he was feeling this way. That didn't mean he had any intentions whatsoever of acknowledging it, though.

Troy blinked, forcing himself down to earth, just in time to notice Gabriella's stare.

She saw him – saw him watching her as she examined him. But she just couldn't bring herself to stop.

Troy was anything but a picture of perfection. He was coated in a layer of sweat, hair messy and slick with perspiration, rather then effortlessly silky and smooth – if slightly messy – like it usually was. He was tired from exercising and had absolutely nothing with him, saw for the clothes on his back.

Troy needed to break the silence. It was all he could think about. But her unbelievably short boy shorts were making that nearly impossible – and the camisole she was wearing did nothing to help. Successfully hiding a gulp, Troy chanted in his mind, _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it… DAMN._

Troy knew Gabriella wouldn't necessarily be impressed by what he was feeling at the moment. She wanted a smart, hot, not sex-driven guy, right? Well, that was exactly what Troy was – just not when she was standing in front of him dressed in her pajamas. How the hell could he not picture her naked? I mean, it wasn't that difficult, what with the amount of clothing she had covering her.

But Troy knew that Gabriella wouldn't see it that way. He knew, just knew, that if he could say something – start a conversation – he would be able to forget about it and calm down. At least that was what he convinced himself into thinking. Now, Troy thought, he just needed something to say.

Easier said then done.

Lucking for Troy, only moments into the silence – in which expanse of time they were both examining the other profusely – Gabriella broke it by asked, "So, how far away _is _your house, anyways?"

"Uh, just a few minutes," Troy said. All he could think about was how that plan of calming down by talking wasn't helping a bit. Stupid hormones. "I live just on the border of where they do the cut off for schools – like, West High verses East High. Apparently, so do you."

Gabriella looked him up and down, eyebrows raised. Finally, she said, "Wow, doesn't take much to tire you out, I guess."

Troy blinked, not getting what she was saying before following Gabriella pointed stare and looking down at himself. Understanding finally dawning on him, he chuckled and said, "I was practicing basketball with my dad for a few hours before coming here."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Troy said, not sure what else to say. He tried not to think about her, and instead focused on her room in the hopes of calming himself down. Gabriella's room was impeccably clean, save for the unmade bed. There wasn't much on her desk or bureau at all, making Troy wonder how the hell she managed not to mess up her room. It looked like something out of a magazine – everything matched, everything was tidy, but the room as a whole wasn't personalized. There was nothing there that defined it as Gabriella's.

"Back to my original question," Gabriella stated, making Troy look back at her. "Why are you here? Really."

"I wanted to see you," Troy said, not an ounce of amusement in his expression or tone. "Seriously."

"Okay," Gabriella whispered, though Troy still heard her. Her eyes were glued to him, her mind working in overdrive.

He had no phone, no wallet. He was still in his basketball practice clothes, and hadn't even showered. But he was there. And both of them knew – Troy even more so then Gabriella – that fact alone spoke volumes. Troy Bolton wasn't the type of guy to _be there_, period. Not even with friends, or _best_ friends. Especially not with any girl – with the exception of those that qualified as friends or best friends. But he was there for Gabriella, albeit a bit unpolished.

And that said more then any words of Troy's had said so far.

A phone ringing broke the contemplative silence that had settled in. Troy frowned, watching Gabriella jump and say quickly, "Oh, that's my cell. One sec, sorry."

Gabriella hastily opened her phone, asking, "Hello?"

"Hey, girl, whatcha up to?"

The rather loud voice of Taylor McKessie blared through the phone, making Gabriella wince slightly. Flashing a glance towards Troy, who was watching her carefully with piercing blue eyes, she replied dryly, "Uh, nothing really. Vincent just left with his flavor of the week. Surprise, surprise."

"Oh, hun," Taylor said sympathetically. Gabriella winced for the second time. This was a really bad time to have a heart-to-heart, considering the other occupant of the room. "Do you want me to come over?"

Luckily for Gabriella, she had always been a decently convincing liar. And since she tried to do it as little as possible, people rarely noticed when she actually _did_ lie.

And so she was able to say in a believable dejected voice, "I wish. My dad wants to do something – I think he feels bad that I'm left alone so often. I would back out, except Vincent's already done that."

"Aw, that sucks. Call me when you're done?"

"I'll try," Gabriella promised. "See you."

"Bye."

Gabriella hung up, looking up at Troy, who was still watching her with a blank look on his face. Quickly she explained to him, "I'm sorry about that, it was just Taylor. Well, not_ just_ Taylor, you know what I mean? She's my best friend, I guess. Actually, I don't really think I have a best friend. But she's the closest I have, anyways, and I was kind of obligated to answer…" Gabriella trailed off, realizing she was babbling. As she observed Troy, she blinked in surprise at the amused look on his face. "What?"

"You don't need to make excuses," Troy replied simply. He shrugged. "I get it – some people just can't be ignored, whether you want to deal with them or not, cause the price for putting them off is worse then just dealing."

"Yeah, that's exactly it, isn't it?" Gabriella said slowly. She backed up cautiously, sitting on the edge of her bed as she observed Troy for the umpteenth time. He had some sort of faraway look in his eyes. He got that a lot, she noticed. Well, at least he had a lot in the time they had spent together. Which wasn't long at all, but whatever.

Gabriella had tried, at first, to get Troy to share. It seemed like he knew a lot more about her then the other way around, a fact that bothered her more then she'd like to admit, even to herself. But Troy was good at avoiding giving answers, as if he dodged questions he didn't want to answer more often then just when he was around her. And so Gabriella had given up. Sometimes she could've sworn there was this look in his eyes, as if he knew what she was trying to do. It was like he was trying to reassure her – tell her that he'd open up someday in the near future, just not right then.

But, then again, he may have just been trying to tell her silently to shut up. Who knew with him?

"So," Troy asked, "What should we do today?"

"Why?" Gabriella asked suddenly, ineloquently blurting out the question. A second later, she instantly felt like a complete idiot, as most people do after asking a question completely irrelevant to the topic at hand. She blushed, but refused to look away from him.

Frowning slightly, Troy asked, "Care to elaborate? Cause I have a feeling you're not talking about the same thing I am."

"What I meant," Gabriella said carefully, the words forming themselves slower then usual, "was, why do you what to keep on hanging out with me? Why do you want to see me? _Why_?"

Troy looked at her for a long moment, his intimidating gaze making her shift a bit. Crossing his arms, he finally shrugged and replied evenly, "I like you. My life's boring, Gabi – that's a fact. But you, you interest me. You're more interesting then anyone else I know. I like interesting."

Gabriella frowned, looking down. She wasn't really sure if that was an insult or complement. So he said she was interesting. Okay, then, so what? But then she looked up into his eyes, and suddenly wasn't so sure that was all he felt. Because the way he was looking at her, with such feeling and emotion, made her think that he was trying to tell her that she was more then just interesting to him. That she was more than that. It was like his eyes were trying to tell her what he wasn't ready to say out loud yet.

But, Gabriella knew, it was far more likely that her mind had just gone into overdrive, and that his eyes weren't trying to tell her anything whatsoever.

"It's that simple?" she asked uncertainly. It seemed impossible that her feelings about Troy were so mixed up and intricate, while his were able to be communicated in a sentence or two.

Troy gave her a sort of half-smile, responding with an unusual softness to his voice, "It's that simple, Gabi."

Nodding slowly in response, Gabriella let herself fall back onto her bed, so she was lying on her back. Trying not to think about how stupid she must look to Troy, Gabriella stared up at the ceiling.

But she wasn't supposed to care about what he thought, right?

"So, back to the original question," Troy said casually, apparently unaware of the awkwardness his companion was feeling. As he spoke, Troy jumped onto the bed dangerously close to Gabriella. He then turned on his side so that he could look down at her, the end result being that Troy was nearly on top of her. Gabriella could've sworn her heart stopped for a breath-taking second. Having a guy like Troy Bolton lying next to you _on your bed_ was not something to make light of. Especially not if his hand was on your thigh, and his mouth was so close to yours his breath warmed your face…

Okay, Gabriella thought firmly, enough thinking about _that_.

She wrinkled her nose, pushing Troy away playfully as she laughed, "Ew, Troy, get off my bed, you're all sweaty."

Wait, was she _flirting_ with him? The thought startling her, Gabriella pulled away without really thinking about it first. _Not good, not good_, she chanted over and over in her head. She could _not _start flirting with Troy Bolton. It was totally against every rule she knew of.

Gabriella was jerked out of her semi-panic attack by Troy's voice, asking amusedly, "So, are you going to tell me what you want us to do today? I'm not getting off of this bed until you do, Gabi."

Gabriella pretended to look insulted, asking in an offended tone of voice, "Mr. Bolton, are you insinuating that I have nothing better to do then spend time with you?"

"Well," Troy shrugged, saying off-handedly, "that was sort of the impression I got when you lied to your friend on the phone just a few minutes ago."

Gabriella blinked in surprise, a blush rising into her cheeks. She _had _just done that, hadn't she? Definitely not one of her better plans. She expected Troy to say more on the subject, but instead he continued, "I have work at four o'clock, but we can hang until then. I was thinking the park again – no high school kids hang out there. Going to the movie theatre would be cool, but not the greatest idea if we want to keep on the down low. Maybe we could watch movies in here… what do you say?"

Smiling, Gabriella pretended to think for a few seconds before replying, "Movies sounds good, on one condition."

"What?" Troy asked.

"That you shower first."

Gabriella watched as Troy hesitated for a second. It seemed out of place, somehow – Troy wasn't the type of person who hesitated, that she knew. But he did. Then, still hesitate, he said slowly, "I don't want to go home right now."

She shrugged, telling him, "You can shower here. I don't have a problem with it."

Troy blinked down at her, his lips stretched into a firm line before he slowly began to smile slightly. He was back to being the normal, confident, unhesitating Troy. In reply, he replied simply, "Whatever you say – but I'll need some clothes."

She smiled mysteriously and said, "No worries, I'll leave some inside the bathroom while you're in the shower."

"I'm not as big as your brother, Gabi," Troy murmured, and Gabriella had to strain to hear him, not because it was too soft but because it was such a change of volume. She knew what he was trying to tell her – that he was Troy, _not_ Vincent. He wanted to define himself. He wanted Gabriella to know that she wasn't with her brother anymore. Being with Troy wasn't the same as being with Vincent – it was riskier, for one.

"I know," she replied just as softly. Giggling, she pushed Troy away and said, "Now hurry up – you're all sweaty and disgusting."

Troy laughed and allowed her to shove him over. Getting off of the bed, he said, "Like I said before, whatever you say."

Gabriella stayed on her bed as he walked out of the room, watching him with curious eyes. He was unlike any guy she had ever met before – and completely different from the definitions of Troy Bolton she had heard from other people. Everyone said he was a jerk, completely apathetic, and cold-hearted. He was said to be indifferent about all of his surroundings and perpetually bored. Like he was just a shell. Everyone on the basketball team said he was emotionless and a ruthless fighter, when it came down to it. But that wasn't the Troy she knew at all.

But, Gabriella defended herself, it wasn't like she had heard about Troy's personality from one of his East High friends. She had just heard stuff around school – and people at West High _hated _Troy Bolton, along with everyone at East High. It would make sense that they blew Troy's personality out of proportion, right? _Right_.

Once she heard the shower start, Gabriella knew she had to get moving. Getting up, she walked over to one of her drawers and took out a rather large Hollistermen's shirt. It was deep blue – a color that worked perfectly with Troy's eyes, Gabriella noted. Not that she cared, or anything. The shirt had been Vincent's when it had first been bought, but he had given it to Gabriella to wear as a nightshirt awhile back.

Clutching the shirt in one hand, she made her way to the hallway next to her room that led to the attic. In the hallway sat a white trash bag, meant for goodwill. Coach Montez always kept goodwill clothes back there, because she rarely got a chance to drop it off. After fishing through the clothing briefly, Gabriella was able to find a pair of jeans that Vincent had decided to hand off to goodwill because they had been a tiny bit too small. Vincent wasn't that big, really, not in comparison to the other basketball players on the West High team. However, he was definitely bulkier then Troy, mostly due to Vincent's muscles. Troy, on the other hand, was just as built – if not more so than Vincent – but his muscles were more compact.

After softly opening the bathroom door and setting the clothes on the bathroom counter, Gabriella quickly shut the door. The last thing she needed was an awkward conversation with Troy while he was taking a shower.

Walking into her room, she walked over to her phone. When Taylor had called, Gabriella hadn't thought to check to see if she had any missed calls – and her phone was still on silent, as it always was at night – so she had no way of knowing if anyone had called that morning.

Gabriella sighed, glancing down at her phone. Seven missed calls. She blinked in shock – she never got that many calls in a day, and it wasn't even noon yet. Checking to see who they were from, a smile crept onto her face as she saw that all of them were from Troy. She looked up towards the bathroom, from which she could hear water running. Gabriella still couldn't stop smiling, blatantly ignoring the nagging though in the back of her brain. It kept on reminding her that she couldn't even remember the last time she had been that happy about something that _didn't _have to do with Troy.

Go figure, huh?

-----

Roughly four hours, two showers, numerous bags of popcorn, and two movies later, Gabriella sighed, leaning back contentedly as the credits for _Enemy of the State_ rolled up the TV screen. Beside her, Troy grinned down at her, saying, "I have to say, that's one of my favorite Will Smith movies."

"It _is_ my favorite, except for _Hitch_," Gabriella said, regretfully getting up and shutting off the TV and DVD player. She looked at the clock – 3:16 PM.

After both Troy and Gabriella had showered, they had popped several bags of popcorn, gotten out two cans of soda, and settled in for a day of movie watching. That is, only after Gabriella had informed Troy that her mother wouldn't be back until the next morning, and Vincent not until midnight or so.

Somewhere around the scene where Albert and Hitch meet in _Hitch_, Troy got up to get another soda. When he got back, he managed to sit down so that he was right next to Gabriella. By the part where Albert gets Allegra's phone number, she noticed Troy's arm slung around her shoulders. She wondered vaguely how long it had been there, finding herself strangely happy at the occurrence.

Troy had chosen_ Hitch_, figuring it was a hilarious movie that everyone liked, guys and girls. So it surprised him when Gabriella decided the next movie would be _Enemy of the State_. She had just laughed and told him that having a brother had definitely affected her movie preferences.

He liked her even better for it.

"Hey, Troy," Gabriella said, "I have to be at work by four-thirty."

"Yeah, I start at four," Troy said, yawning as he stood up. "What time do you get off?"

"Only seven. I don't usually work on Sundays, I'm just taking over a few hours for a friend," Gabriella explained. Troy internally wilted in disappointment – he wasn't getting off until much later than that.

"Oh," he said as apathetically as he could manage. "Call me tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," Gabriella said, a smile spreading across her face. "You need a ride to your house?"

Troy shook his head, "I think I'm good. It's not too far, actually."

They both stood there, watching each other carefully and a bit uncertainly. Gabriella didn't want him to go. She was always alone on the weekends, without her mother or brother. There was never anyone there before. But Troy was there, he had spent the day with her when he could've just done whatever he wanted to. And now Gabriella didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to be left alone again.

Gabriella just didn't know how to communicate that to him without sounding like an idiot, or freak, or whiney brat, or anything that wouldn't work in her favor.

Finally the silence began to weight so heavily on her, she knew she had to say something. Her voice coming out unnaturally quiet, Gabriella said carefully, "You should go – I don't want you to be late for work."

The shakiness in her voice betrayed how much she didn't want to be left alone.

"Yeah," he replied, still not moving.

"Troy?" Gabriella asked, concerned, "What's wrong?"

She took a few steps forward and laid a hand gently on his arm. Troy just shook his head and looked down at her, his eyes blank. After a moment of silence, he said softly, "Do you mind if I don't go home just yet?"

Troy didn't add the part that he was thinking – that he could see the look in her eyes. He knew, just _knew_ that she didn't want to be left alone. And he didn't want to leave her without anyone by her side. Gabriella didn't deserve to be alone, not unless she wanted to be.

"Stay as long as you need to," Gabriella murmured in reply, looking up to meet his gaze.

The look in her eyes was all the thanks he needed from her.

------

**Review?**

**And for all of you who were on the edge of their seats at the end of chapter 6, just wait until the next one ). Yes, I'm evil sometimes, haha.**

**- Steph**


	9. Losing Control

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, like Vincent.

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**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** Troy was the unfeeling leader of East High who never let anyone past his defenses. Gabriella was West High's good girl who never really belonged. She completely swept him off her feet, the one girl he wasn't supposed to like. AU Troyella w/ some Zekepay.

**Author's Note: **So I know you all want to hate me, but trust me I posted this as soon as I could. I mean, it's Christmas Eve for God's sake!! To make up for my appalling lack of updates, I've made this chapter the longest yet - by at least TWO THOUSAND words. Yes, This one is about 7,500 words and 16 or 17 pages. YAY!! So, a couple of things before this chapter starts.

1. Look up... farther... father... okay, so you see that T up there? It's all blue. Yeah, that's the rating. And it comes into play in this chapter (read the first sentence and you'll get my drift). So, yeah, if you have a problem with that then you are forewarned. I don't want to be flamed or anything.

2. MERRY CHIRSTMAS (for those of you who celebrate it)!! Unfortunately, my brother is going to wake me up at 7 tomorrow (even though he's only one year and a half younger than me). But, still, it'll be fun. I'm actually going to go to the movies with all of the Jewish people in the afternoon with my family... we're seeing National Treasure 2.

3. This is dedicated to all of you new reviewers, BECAUSE CHAPTER 7 GOT 31 REVIEWS!! I was shocked. Seriously, some of my other chapters only have like 15 reviews and suddenly there are 31 for ONE chapter. That's just amazing, and pretty much made my life. I mean, I didn't even expect to get 31 reviews TOTAL for this fic. Thanks SO much. All of you other writers know how happy I am.

**Tally... (hehe this is my favorite part of the author's note - I'm bad, I know): 155 reviews, 13,014 hits, 35,000 words, and** **77 pages of pure writing. 'Emotions' has 74 favs and 123 alerts and constantly growing. There aren't any c2s, but that's okay. All of you reviewers, you ROCK MY WORLD!!**

In my opinion, this chapter was DEFINATELY worth the wait. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!!

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**Chapter 8: Losing Control**

_Your subtleties, they strangle me  
I can't explain myself at all  
And all the wants, and all the needs  
All I don't want to need at all _

_The walls start breathing, my minds unweaving  
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.  
A weight is lifted, on this evening  
I give the final blow._

_- It Ends Tonight, All-American Rejects_

"This is fucking unbelievable," Chad complained, keeping his voice low enough that only Troy, who was standing a foot away leaning against the wall, could hear.

Troy's steely gaze snapped up, boring into Chad's suddenly scared eyes. Coolly with a hint of menace in his voice, Troy said with a voice that match his hard eyes, "Shut up."

Chad immediately shut his mouth, his eyes cautiously looking back at Troy confusingly. Troy knew that Chad didn't get it – he wasn't smart enough. He didn't get what the big deal was with complaining about Sharpay. She was apart of their group, sure, but she could be very annoying sometimes. But still, Sharpay was Troy's friend. The closest thing he had to a best friend, despite the fact that everyone saw Chad as his best friend. And although Troy could complain about Sharpay all he wanted, that didn't mean anyone else could. Only Ryan, because he was her twin brother and brothers were supposed to complain about their sisters.

Troy knew that Chad – and probably many other people – took Troy's protectiveness of Sharpay to mean that he liked her. After all, Troy wouldn't let anyone talk bad about Sharpay, _ever_. Even if Troy himself was. But that wasn't it, he didn't have feelings for her. Troy couldn't ever imagine liking Sharpay like that. And it wasn't like he could ever put up with her as a girlfriend.

In response to Chad's cowering gaze, Troy just stared warningly back, turning up the volume on his iPod. They were standing in some sort of designer store, one of many that Sharpay had dragged them to over the course of the past hour. Troy didn't know exact names of the stores – they were all a blur, and he just couldn't be bothered to remember the actual names – so this one was affectionately dubbed the-store-with-coed-changing-rooms.

It was good, he decided, that Zeke wasn't there. Troy had a hunch that if Zeke was there, he'd end up in Sharpay's changing room, with something on his mind that didn't have anything to do with trying _on_ clothes.

In fact, the whole Zeke story was rather amusing. It had started out that morning with Sharpay coming up to Troy, fluttering her eyelashes and pouting. Of course, this did nothing to affect Troy. Still, she proceeded to tell him that she needed a favor, which was to find a way to get Zeke out of the way when a group of them – meaning Troy, Chad, Zeke, and Sharpay – were at the mall. Sharpay's mission: to get Zeke lots of new, expensive clothes. It was a gift to go along with his birthday present, which was a week-long trip to Hawaii for the two of them. How Sharpay had convinced her parents to let her do this, Troy had no idea.

Just after Troy refused to help, and Sharpay went back to her house, sulking, Zeke called. Their conversation consisted of Zeke pleading with Troy to help cover for him while he went to find some sort of present for Sharpay on their mall-escapade. Talk about ironic.

So, Troy, being the good guy he was, changed his mind and decided to help both parties out.

Obviously, it had absolutely nothing to do with Zeke's promise to do _anything _for him in return, or Sharpay's hint that she just might get him off community service duty in thanks.

While Chad and Troy were standing on one side of the store, Sharpay was on the other side of it. She was examining a shimmering red dress, biting her lip before snapping her fingers and saying, "That one, too, Jerold."

At her command, the shorter of the two salesmen quickly looked for her size – which he, of course, knew by heart – and took it out, adding it to the stack of clothes the other salesman was carrying. Sharpay had piled so many clothing articles into his arms, he couldn't even see what was in front of him as he walked. Troy almost felt bad for the poor guy. _Almost_.

"Chad, come over here," Sharpay commanded. Chad sent Troy a disbelieving look, but seeing Troy's look – which was clearly telling Chad to move – he wisely didn't utter a word of complaint. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and trudged over to Sharpay.

Troy watched carefully as Sharpay instructed, "Go with Geoffrey, here, and sort all of these clothes. Put the stuff I'm going to try on in my dressing room – make sure everything is in order. You know the drill: shirts, then pants, then skirts and dresses, with anything else last. Everything for Zeke, go and try on in another dressing room. Put on the red shirt and these pants first, and then come out so I can take a look." When Chad didn't move, she glared and hissed, "_Now_."

Muttering various profanities under his breath, because he wasn't brave enough to say them any louder, lest Sharpay hear, Chad stalked off to the dressing rooms. Troy watched, wincing internally as Sharpay then set her sights on him. Gesturing for Jerold to follow, Sharpay strutted over to Troy.

He looked down at her, reluctantly shutting off his iPod and asking in a voice that couldn't by any means be classified as nice, "What?"

Smiling widely up at him, Sharpay said perkily, "Now it's time to shop for you!"

Now, if there was one thing Troy knew from being friends with Sharpay since the first day of kindergarten, it was that she took shopping almost as serious as she took drama. Which was not good at all for a guy like him.

The truth of the matter was, shopping with Sharpay was unavoidable – in fact, it was often how Troy spent his weekends. Luckily for him, his reputation ensured that all he was required to do was watch and give his opinion. This wasn't bad at all, compared to Chad, Zeke, or Jason's jobs, which consisted of trying on clothes, fetching her items, and shagging around her bags. In fact, the only two people who had the better end of the stick during Sharpay's escapades were Ryan and Troy, himself.

Actually, most of the time Sharpay was buying for one _them_, just because she had nothing better to do.

Troy had no problem with Sharpay picking out clothes for him and then making Chad try them on 'for size' (so she could deduce whether the clothing ran big or small or just right). At first, the more ethical part of his brain had pointed out to Sharpay that he had no way to pay her back. But Sharpay just said that it would be his birthday present, and that 'all' he would receive from her were weekly donations to his closet for his gift.

Troy preferred not to think about what the bills added up to.

Sharpay thought she was spending too little.

Ryan knew better than to be surprised.

Everyone else thought it was completely insane.

"Shar, can't you just stick to Zeke for today?" Troy asked, taking one ear bud out of his ear so that she would know he was listening to her.

Eyeing him up and down, she replied flatly, "No way, not when you're wearing ripped jeans and a horrid five dollar shirt – which, by the way, you wore _yesterday_ as well. C'mon, I think I want to get you a polo or two, and a couple of button-ups. Oh, and I saw a nice display of swimsuits we should totally check out, how does that sound?" Sharpay looked hopefully up at Troy. Seeing the look of disdain on his face, she added, "Oh, fine, we can pick up a few graphic t-shirts, too, if we must."

"Seriously, I'm not in the mood today," Troy said flatly.

Her eyes still wide and not in the least put off, Sharpay pleaded brightly, "Please, Troy? You won't even have to try anything on, I swear! I'll just buy it all, and we can return whatever doesn't work. Deal?"

Silence.

"Forty-five minutes," Troy said after a few moments of contemplation, finally conceding. Sharpay squealed excitedly and dragged him across the store to the men's section.

Troy glanced at his watch. Forty-four minutes and fifty-six seconds to go.

He didn't have time for this. Not then. Troy's mind was focused on something much more important: how to ask Gabriella out.

Ever since the Sunday when Troy and Gabriella had spent the day together watching movies at her house, which had been four days previous, they had grown immeasurably closer.

Monday had been hanging out at the park again, having ice cream, which Troy had soon discovered was Gabriella's favorite food on earth. Tuesday they had talked on the phone, both locked in their rooms and talking quietly so no one would hear. And Wednesday was the park again, where they had spent hours sharing the ear buds to Troy's iPod. The day had mainly consisted of Troy introducing Gabriella to Dave Matthews – which within moments of hearing the first song transformed her into a diehard fan, as Troy was – and comparing music likes and dislikes.

Now it was Thursday, and Troy had yet to see Gabriella. But he knew he would, because when he did he was going to ask her out. The topic of dating hadn't been discussed since Troy had proposed just being friends. But now they were friends, and Troy really, _really_ wanted to ask her out. He felt a lot for Gabriella – it was more than liking her or crushing on her. And, sure, he definitely felt lust, but it was more than that, too.

He could only hope that she felt the same way.

Frowning as Sharpay held various articles of clothing up to him, Troy glanced around the store, only to lay eyes on the only person he really wanted to see.

Gabriella Montez was wearing what Troy would describe as the sweatpants she wore the day that past Monday, when he had found her reading in the park again, her second favorite sweatshirt that she had left at his house that day his mom had been at a function, and flip-flops. Sharpay would say she was wearing Adidas gray sweatpants that were 'last season' and an appallingly horrific knockoff hoodie, coupled with cute pink flip-flops that she suspected were from Victoria's Secret.

Anyone else wouldn't particularly care what Gabriella was wearing.

Troy wasn't an idiot – he was careful to keep the same look of boredom on his face, and used all of his will power to refrain from looking at Gabriella. In fact, the only change was the methodic way he was checking his watch. That lasted for ten minutes.

"Okay, so, I think we should focus on blues mostly – no black, because you have too much of that already, and maybe a bit of green. How many swimsuits do you have?" she asked, eyeing the wrack of new men's swimsuits with longing.

Troy cocked an eyebrow before saying evenly, "Enough."

"Troy," Sharpay sighed dramatically, pursing her lips and shaking her head for effect, "you know I need specifics. What colors? Sizes? Designer name? When did you get them?"

Rubbing his eyes, Troy was able to discreetly look at Gabriella for a brief moment, who was examining a display of shirts with her companion, an African-American girl about her age. He could tell she was trying not to look at him, but temptation gave in and she snuck a glance. Her friend didn't notice. Carefully, Troy told Sharpay, "Why don't you go and see how Chad's doing?"

Sharpay frowned suspiciously, because Troy Bolton did _not_ rub his eyes, and he did _not_ request things from people. Troy Bolton gave orders. Narrowing her eyes, she began to put a few things together.

Sharpay Evans was a lot of things. She was intimidating, she was manipulative, and she was cunning. She could sneak, and she could blackmail. And that was why Sharpay Evans _knew _that Troy was hiding something. She was sure of it, as much as she was sure that the Spanish-looking girl from across the room was sneaking glances at him.

Oh, yes, Sharpay knew.

You see, she _knew_ Troy. Knew him more than he thought she did. After all, she _was_ his best friend, although that wasn't the term either of them used. She knew his habits, the way he thought, and more of secrets than anyone else could uncover. She knew he could be cruel if he wanted to, but also was extremely protective of the things and people that he cared for. She knew his clever side, manipulative side, and every other side he had – even the good ones. Okay, not so much the good ones, but she could certainly decipher more of Troy than anyone else.

And, right then and there, she was positive that he was hiding something, because this wasn't normal Troy Bolton behavior.

She briefly considered calling him on it, but knew it would do no good. He'd just close up even more and work harder to cover his tracks. And so she decided it was best to do what he told her to and pretend to be oblivious to his strange behavior. Well, strange for Troy, that is.

Before she could follow Troy's orders and find Chad, however, he came out, supporting a pair of Nantucket red shorts, an A-shirt, and a sweatshirt. Even Troy knew how to match his outfits better then that. Wrinkling her nose, Sharpay turned to Troy, saying, "Pick out a few things to buy – I'll be right back."

And then she strutted away, not even pausing as she passed Chad. Instead, she grabbed his arm and swung him around, dragging him back to the dressing room and ignoring his exclamations of, "_Fuck_, the_ hell_?"

Troy leaned against the wall, contemplating turning his iPod back on. But then he heard Gabriella's voice drifting towards him over the clothing racks, and his hand dropped immediately. Sure, Troy was a gentleman. But what gentleman didn't eavesdrop every now and then?

…. "Taylor, I don't have any idea what you're talking about, really."

Taylor, Troy mused, so that was her name. In reply to Gabriella, Taylor scoffed out loud and retorted, "Oh, please, Gabriella. You don't have to tell me what's going on, just don't treat me like an idiot. I'm your friend, and I can tell when something's up with you."

Troy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, keeping his eyes fixed on his iPod so as not to attract Gabriella or Taylor's attention. He glanced up quickly as Gabriella sighed exasperatedly and said, "Relax, Tay. Do you realize how paranoid you sound? I'm okay, and I'm not trying to treat you like an idiot."

"Whatever."

Suddenly, an idea struck him. Troy took out his cell phone, quickly sending a text to Gabriella.

Troy: meet me at T Hilfiger in 10 min.

She didn't answer for five minutes.

While he waited, the only sign of his impatience was the way his eyes kept on looking down at his cell. He checked it was on silent enough times that by the last one he already knew it was and ran his hand through his hair more then he ever had in one day before then. When she finally did reply, he forced himself to wait thirty seconds (yes, he counted in his head) before flipping his phone open and reading it. Image was important, after all.

Gabriella: Better make it fifteen.

A smile spread across Troy's face. He loved the way she used perfect grammar, even while texting. He loved the way she snuck a glace at him the same time he looked up. He loved how she blushed and looked away, only to look back seconds later. And he loved the way she moved not quite gracefully towards the shoe section, carrying several articles of clothing.

And he was going to pretend he hadn't just used the word _love _several times in context with Gabriella Montez.

"Tr-_oy_," Sharpay whined, coming out of the dressing room in an empire waist silvery metallic dress with matching stilettos. "Can you _please_ go and knock some sense into that colorblind idiot?"

"Yeah, cause I'm really a nice guy like that," Troy said dryly.

Sharpay glared at him before snapping with a dramatic sigh, "_Fine_. But at least go and pick out a few swimsuits, would you?"

"Sorry, can't, I've got to pick up some stuff for my mother," Troy said, not even pretending to care.

In a very Sharpay-esque fashion, Sharpay huffed and crossed her arms, responding, "What_ever_, Troy. Just make sure you're at my house by eleven – the whole gang's coming over, and I have no doubt that you'll have to drive some of them home."

"Mhmm… whatever you say, Shar."

Troy was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't noticed the suspicious look Sharpay gave him as she caught sight of the slightly – dare she say it? – _dreamy_ look on his face, and the half-smile that accompanied it.

Troy Bolton did not get dreamy. He did not space out, and he most certainly didn't smile like _that_. Troy was cynical, always alert, and cold. He was apathetic and bored, _not_ a daydreamer. Sharpay knew something was going on with Troy, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to find out what it was.

------

"… I mean, I know Taylor's my 'best friend' and all, but she can be_ so_ annoying! I just want her to get me, you know. And if she can't do that, then at least accept me. But it's like we have to be the same, and I'm just not a Taylor McKessie, you know?"

Troy resisted the urge to smile as he looked down at Gabriella. They were at the park – their designated hang out – where they had fled to after meeting at Tommy Hilfiger's. After buying ice cream and finding a comfortable (yet secluded) place to sit, Gabriella had begun talking. She talked about her parents, Vincent, Taylor, the Scholastic Decathlon team, and everything in between. And Troy listened. He listened because Gabriella was finally talking and because he loved the sound of her voice. And Troy soaked in every detail, because he loved knowing things about Gabriella Montez.

But then they drifted into a comfortable silence, and Troy knew if he didn't ask her then, he wouldn't have enough guts to do it again. He could do this. Troy _knew_ he could do this. I mean, he_ was_ Troy Bolton, after all. And he was talking to Gabi. How hard could it be?

"Hey, so," Troy hesitated, his confidence slowly deteriorating. He'd never been so unsure of himself before – with anyone else, he could be sure that they'd say yes. But with Gabriella there wasn't any guarantee, "you want to hang out tonight?"

Gabriella cocked an eyebrow, asking with a trace of amusement in her voice, "Isn't that what we've been doing nonstop for the past few days? Hanging out?"

Troy frowned, eyeing Gabriella uncertainly as she took another bite out of her ice cream cone. He had finished his ice cream five minutes previous, but she didn't seem to care if she was holding him up. Or maybe it was that she knew him well enough to know that he secretly didn't want her to finish, because then there would be the chance that their day together would end – Troy didn't know.

While she was preoccupied with not getting any of the rapidly melting ice cream on her person, Troy took the moment to analyze her reply, because for the life of him he couldn't figure out whether she was teasing him or if she truly hadn't caught on as to what he was asking. That had never happened before. Then again, along with Gabriella came a lot of things he'd never experienced before her.

"Well, I figured we could do something different – my dad's going to be out at a teacher's convention, and my mom's going with him for some getaway time. I'll be on my own for a few days, so I thought we could just watch some movies and get takeout or something…" Troy trailed off.

Gabriella had stopped now, and was staring at him strangely. An awkward silence loomed between them before she finally asked uncertainly, "You mean like a date, right?"

"Well, yeah," Troy said, shifting uncomfortably and looking down. He didn't want to look into her eyes, or see the expression on her face, for fear of seeing anger or disgust, or rejection, or something equally as horrible. His confidence now completely nonexistent, he added quickly, "But, you know, we can stick with the whole 'friends' thing, if you want…"

He looked up, dreading what he would see. But Gabriella wasn't scowling, or laughing, or scoffing. She was just eyeing him carefully, biting her lip in a way that Troy found completely irresistible.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Seeing Troy's face fall just slightly – which was more then he'd ever allow anyone else to see – she added quickly, "A date, I mean. But could we push it to Friday night? I have to go over to my aunt's house for dinner tonight. Besides, Friday my mom won't be home."

"Sounds good. Come over around eight?"

"Yeah, that sounds okay."

Troy couldn't stop his small sort of half-smile from spreading across his face. Smirking, Gabriella asked, "You were nervous, weren't you?"

"What can I say?" he said, shrugging. "You do things to me, Gabi." Troy then leaned in, his breath brushing against Gabriella's skin as he whispered into her ear, "Don't tell anyone."

------

It took several clever lies and a couple of cancellations, but by Friday night Gabriella was standing in front of her closet, examining her clothing selection helplessly. It was common knowledge at West High that Gabriella wasn't much of a fashion person. She wore jeans everyday unless she couldn't help it, coupled with either flip flops or Birks depending on the weather. She had decent tops, but preferred to cover them with overly large sweatshirts or hoodies.

And so that was what she had originally put on, after she had seen to it that Vincent was out of the house and the doors were locked (the last thing she needed was to have Taylor or someone equivalent to her walking in as she was daydreaming about Troy).

But then something hit her.

This was a _date_. With _Troy Bolton_ – who went to _East_ High.

And that was precisely when Gabriella started to panic.

Normally she would call Taylor, Colette or some other girl for girly, date advice. But that wasn't an option, because none of them could know about Troy. And if she lied about who she was going out with, they would just find out the truth eventually.

_Why_ had she said yes again?

Gabriella wasn't a particularly hateful person, not really. She was usually kind, a healthy blend of optimistic and realistic, and ready for whatever life threw at her. She didn't hate her brother for suffocating her (metaphorically, obviously, not physically), nor her parents for leaving her alone. She didn't hate her friends for not knowing her well enough. Hell, she didn't even detest her teachers or homework or Mondays or anything else that normal teenagers hated.

But there was one thing that Gabriella Montez _did_ hate, with a fierce passion. She hated being confused. And Troy Bolton made her confused.

So it was funny, really, that she didn't hate him at all. In fact, the problem wasn't that she _disliked_ him; it was that she liked him. Probably too much, if she had to be honest.

The worst part, though, was that she just couldn't stop thinking about him. Even at the mall, when she had been shopping with Taylor, her thoughts remained on him (a problem which certainly wasn't improved when Troy showed up at Ralph Lauren with a beautiful, leggy blonde).

Who had that blonde been, anyways? Well, Gabriella knew that it was Sharpay Evans – firstly because everyone knew who Sharpay was, and also because she had heard Troy refer to her as 'Shar' (yeah, yeah, so she had been eavesdropping, whatever). But still. What if they liked each other? They could've been boyfriend and girlfriend, or friends with benefits, for all she knew. She had to face it, Gabriella didn't know much about Troy. How could she be expected to, though? They went to different schools, had different friends, and led different lives. The only thing they had in common was each other.

Then, of course, he just _had_ to ask her out. And she had thought things couldn't get any worse.

Wrong._ So_ wrong.

What the hell had that been about? Why on earth did she say yes? Stupid,_ stupid_ Gabriella, she repeated over and over again in her mind. It just wasn't fair, how Troy Bolton could probably make her jump of a cliff if he so desired, and yet he still remained an impenetrable enigma to her.

Life sucked.

The worst part by far, though, was that Gabriella _like_ liked Troy. As in the more-than-a-crush, definitely-including-an-unhealthy-mix-of-lust-and-desire, maybe-love type of 'like'. The 'like' that she wasn't supposed to feel for an East High student, never mind the person all of her friends (and her family) hated the most.

Did he even like her back?

What would happen if they _did _last?

Gabriella knew she was getting way ahead of herself, but couldn't bring herself to care. The way she was feeling about Troy – it was the best thing she had ever experienced. From the way he smiled to the warmth that spread through her like fire whenever they touched, it was like her drug. He made her feel elated, and perfect. Troy seemed to be okay with her, like she could do no wrong. He didn't care if she didn't like basketball, or if she got a B-plus on a test. He liked Gabriella Montez, the good, the imperfect, and everything else.

But Troy… what _wasn't_ there to love? He was cute, sexy, talented, smart, and everything in between. He was perfect. He was on his way to becoming a famous basketball player, and yet Gabriella could still hold an intelligent conversation with him. He was on the honor roll, didn't drunk or do drugs, and wasn't a player. Troy seemed to be able to see her – really_ see_ her – like no one else she had ever met. And he knew it. Yet there wasn't an once of arrogance or conceit in him, at least from what she could tell. Troy was, well, perfect. There wasn't any other way to describe him. Compared to Troy, Gabriella knew that she was nothing. She didn't get it – why did he ask her out, when there were so many other girls that were better than her in every way?

But Gabriella didn't want him to go for one of those other girls. She wanted him to stick with her, to like _her_. She needed to impress him.

That was why she spent a good forty-five minutes deciding what to wear – which was the longest she had spent on getting dressed, _ever_. Finally, after trying on numerous outfits, she settled on dark wash jeans, Jimmy Choo flats (because she couldn't walk in heels, and didn't own any other nice shoes), and a black cropped jacket. Her shirt was a nice, deep purple button-up blouse. It was off one shoulder and scoop-necked.

Putting on a small amount of make-up – no eyeliner, because she'd probably poke her eye out, but some eye shadow and mascara – and grabbing a small clutch to put a few necessities in, Gabriella gave herself one more look in the mirror. She sighed, but knew she couldn't do anything about her image. It was already 7:49 PM, and she still had to figure out where his house was.

After looking up where Troy lived on Mapquest and then printing out the page of directions, she was relieved to realize he lived only a few minutes away. Hastily grabbing her purse, directions, and keys, Gabriella ran to her car. Without allowing herself to hesitate, she started driving.

Gabriella pulled into the Bolton's driveway at exactly 7:59 PM. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to calm herself down and gather her thoughts. This was just Troy. The very same Troy she had been spending the past few days with; the Troy that seemed to know her better than anyone else. There was no reason to worry. He _had _asked her out the day before, after all.

Exhaling slowly in a last attempt to calm her screaming nerves, Gabriella turned her car off and got out, making her way nervously to the front door.

_It's just Troy, it's just Troy… No reason to worry…_

Troy opened the door the second she knocked, and she hoped that he hadn't seen her sitting in the car before coming in. He had a phone to his ear – held in between his shoulder and head. Gabriella could hear the faint voice of the person on the other end of the line speaking. Despite this, Troy didn't seem to be listening to whoever was speaking.

Like Gabriella, Troy had dressed up. He was wearing dark jeans, though they weren't as dark as hers, and a black silky button-up that was almost metallic, but not really. It comforted Gabriella that Troy decided to wear nicer clothes, like her – she gained confidence, knowing she had done something right. Looking up at him, Gabriella bit her lip to hold back the wide and eager grin that threatened to spread across her face.

"Hey," Troy whispered softly, covering the mouthpiece to the phone as he spoke and trying not to stare at her too hard. Gabriella gave him a small but still meaningful smile, repeating his greeting just as softly. Grinning down at her, he murmured, "One sec."

Troy stepped back and allowed Gabriella to enter the house, shutting the door behind her as he spoke into his phone curtly, "Zeke, I'm not joking. You asked Shar out, now you have to put up with her." Troy patiently listened to the person on the other end of the line, Zeke, before replying, "I've been her friend since Kindergarten. I know. Now I'm going, and if eitherof you call me back it's on your shoulders."

He hung up without giving Zeke a chance to respond. Putting the phone on the nearest table, Troy turned to Gabriella just as she was slipping her jacket off. She looked more dressed up than usual, he immediately noticed.

Frowning, he took in her sparkly shoes, dark jeans, and unbelievably sexy top. It wasn't slutty at all, but still revealed one shoulder and plenty of her flawless, smooth skin. Troy's eyes tried not to stare too hard, but it was being difficult, because he had never seen her dressed like this. Gabriella had always had on casual clothes, like sweatshirts and loose jeans.

But these jeans, they were fitted. And that shirt – it may have been simple, but it was way too sexy. Troy had a hard enough time controlling himself when she was wearing her regular attire. Now he had no idea how he was going to make it through the night doing something he shouldn't. But he knew he had to keep himself in check. If he screwed up his chance with Gabriella, Troy knew he'd never forgive himself.

"Sorry about that," he said apologetically, and Gabriella wasn't sure if he was referring to the phone call or the way he had so easily and coolly dismissed the friend that had been on the other end of the phone line. "I couldn't get him to shut up."

"Oh, it's fine," Gabriella said brightly. "Who was it?"

"Zeke Baylor, one of the guys from basketball," Troy said shortly, making it clear that he didn't want to talk about it. Noticing the jacket she was holding, he said, "I'll take it."

She handed over the jacket, and Troy took it in one hand. Grabbing her hand with his free one, he led her into the kitchen, saying as he did, "My parents aren't due to be back until Monday, I think, so we can do whatever. You like Chinese food, right?"

He heard Gabriella's beautiful laugh from behind him and then her reply, "Who doesn't?"

"True," he agreed as he carefully laid her jacket on the island in the kitchen. Picking up another phone from off its charger, he gave it to her as he instructed, "You can call in – get whatever you want – preferably a lot. I like anything."

Gabriella hesitated before handing him back the phone and saying, "You can – I'm cool with whatever."

Troy considered insisting, but the look in her eyes told Troy that she wasn't doing it to be polite. She didn't want to do something wrong – to mess anything up. Shrugging and pretending it was no big deal, he replied, "Sure. What do you want?"

Gabriella gave him her order, and watched as Troy called it in, ordering way more than two people could ever eat. He was completely comfortable, she observed, and Gabriella found herself envying him for it.

Putting the phone on the counter – and not on the charger, Gabriella couldn't help but notice – Troy said, "It'll be twenty minutes. Let's start a movie – your choice. We don't have many DVDs, but my parents pay for On Demand, and there's some pretty good stuff on there."

"Yeah, okay," Gabriella responded, smiling again. She put her clutch and keys next to her jacket. Placing one hand on the small of her back – an action that caught her off guard – Troy directed her to the TV room.

Softly, in a completely serious voice, he told her, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Saying yes."

Gabriella nodded slowly as Troy gestured for her to sit down on the couch. Before doing so, she turned to face him. Their eyes met as Gabriella whispered meaningfully, "Thanks for asking."

And Troy didn't even try to bite back the wide grin that stretched across his face.

------

"Hey, uh, Troy – the movie's over," Gabriella murmured softly. Troy blinked – as he thought, he had been staring intently at the TV screen without really seeing it. As he came back to reality, he noticed that the credits were now rolling.

Looking down at her, Troy jerked back as he saw that Gabriella's face was dangerously close to his. She was looking up at him, a strange look in her eyes, and Troy's thoughts started to wander…

It would be so easy to kiss her – to just lean down and press his lips up against hers. Troy was tempted. So, so tempted… all it would take was for him to tilt his head down a few inches…

A small, innocent kiss couldn't hurt, right? Troy debated this, but even as he decided it was probably a bad idea, he was leaning in. And then his lips were touching hers.

It was supposed to be a small, second-long kiss. A short kiss for a first date. Right? That was what he was supposed to do. But it didn't end up being a short kiss at all, because Troy just couldn't bring himself to pull away. Not when she was kissing back, and they were so close together… Besides, she was meeting him, kiss for kiss, touch for touch. Troy tensed as he felt her hands roaming over him. She wasn't stopping, so that meant he didn't have to, right? Right. It was perfectly okay for him to slip his tongue into her mouth, and for her to follow his lead. It was all okay.

Hell, at this point it wasn't like Troy _could _stop if he wanted to – it was physically impossible to control his hands as they slid all over her body or his lips from eagerly and passionately exploring hers. He had never known exactly what everyone meant when they talked about the fireworks – Sharpay talked about it, all of the movies did, hell, even the guys on the basketball team did. Troy had just never gotten the message. Now, however, as something inside of him exploded – both in his brain and somewhere below the belt – he was finally starting to realize what the fuss was all about.

Gabriella knew she should break away – she should've shoved him off, slapped him, _something_. But she couldn't, not with his hands running up her sides, and his body pressed up against hers. She willingly kissed him back, losing all train of thought as his tongue pried her lips open.

Somehow Troy ended up on top of her as she lay down on the couch. Gabriella vaguely wondered how her hands found their way under his shirt, but then decided it didn't matter much so long as they stayed there. She could feel his muscles contract as she ran her hands up and down them. He was very well-built, but then again it never occurred to her that he wouldn't be. Her hands slowly reached the low waistband of his jeans, and Gabriella felt Troy's sharp breath intake. She was tempted to go lower, but then Troy's hands followed her lead and slipped under her shirt.

Troy tried not to groan as Gabriella's hands slide farther and farther down her body, past the waistband of his jeans and down his thighs. Tracing designs on her stomach as he slowly slid his hands up, Troy could feel her small moan vibrating into his throat.

Breaking off their kiss, Troy's lips slowly trailed down her jaw and neck. He could feel her hands unbuttoning his shirt, and removed his hands from her stomach so that she could take it off. Even as he was unbuttoning her shirt and Gabriella was wrapping her legs around his waist, he brought his lips up to her ear and half groaned, half murmured, "I won't be able to stop."

He was vaguely surprised at his voice, because it sounded different then his usually did. It was so out of character for him to allow so much emotion into his voice. But it was impossible to control his body or mind, not when her legs were wrapped around him like that, and her hands were tangled in his hair…

"I know," she whispered as she turned his head to capture her lips with his.

Troy started to lead Gabriella upstairs, and after that he didn't think much at all…


	10. Insecure and Unsure

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, like Vincent.

-

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note: **Hola!! This chapter is up in record time… well, I'm not really sure if I've posted faster before, but this is pretty damn fast… I mean, it's the 30th today and chapter 8 was up on Christmas Eve. So, I think I get a serious clap on the back… and I hear there's a snowstorm coming tonight and tomorrow, so I'll prolly have lots of time then, too. All of my friends are on vacation, so I have no one to hang with :(.

I'd also like to thank everyone for reviewing… 32 for chapter 8!! Wow, I really got a response for that one and the one before. Seriously, before chapter 7 the most reviews I had for any one chapter was 20! Amazing, you guys. I owe you. Anyways, that makes the total for this fic 188 reviews (WHOOT, WHOOT)!! If you could get it to 200, that would make my life… no joke. But that's not a threat or anything, cause I hate those. Also, I have more than 16,000 hits, which is wondrous in itself. I'll skip the rest of the bragging cause the dedication is SO LONG.

This chapter is dedicated to xxMavia Loverxx (the creator of **Only the Best Troyella**), as well as kathyt222 (the creator of **Too Cute!**). This is because they are the first to add me to a c2!! THANKS SO MUCH!!

**------**

**Chapter 9: Insecure and Unsure**

_I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles_

_In our eyes are mirror images and when_

_We kiss they're perfectly aligned_

_And I have to speculate that God himself_

_Did make us into corresponding shakes like_

_Puzzle pieces from the clay_

_True, it may seem like a stretch, but_

_It's thoughts like this that catch my troubled_

_Head when your away when I am missing you to death_

_- Such Great Heights, The Postal Service_

------

Troy didn't know why he woke up.

Blearily, he mumbled something incoherent to himself before opening one eye and then the other. He lay like that, on his back, for a moment, just staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Then, as he gained a sense of his surroundings, a few things registered.

Firstly, that it was nine o'clock.

Secondly, that he was tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets that were normally never wrapped around him when he woke up in the morning.

Then Troy sat up and looked around. Troy hadn't seen the need to clean his room before Gabriella came over – he hadn't expected she'd be in there. Now, however, he was seriously contemplating hitting himself over the head. Eyeing the clothes spread haphazardly across the floor (thrown there as he was trying to decided what to wear for his first date with Gabriella Montez), he winced. But then there were the condoms – some used and others still unused – scattered across the bed and floor from the night before.

And that was when he remembered.

Gabriella.

And the best damn night of his life.

She had been… amazing. Immeasurably better than those other two times. It was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, and for a second he actually could see why Sharpay had been so eager to share with Zeke. I mean, who wouldn't want to shout from the rooftops

Well, maybe shouting from his roof would be a little extreme, but whatever.

A lazy smile crossed Troy's face at the thought of all that… _chemistry_. I mean, he knew that people all had some sort of lust in their relationships, especially in marriage. Still, did everyone actually have _that_? Unfortunately, Troy's smile disappeared a second later as he remembered the other part of the night...

------

_Troy felt something shifting next to him. It wasn't particularly loud or discomforting; nevertheless the movement combined with the shuffling noise was enough to jerk Troy from his sleep. Lazily opening his eyes, he immediately realized it wasn't morning by the darkness of his room – a fact that was only verified as he caught sight of his alarm clock. It was almost four o'clock. _

_Hearing the rustling of blankets and yet more movement, Troy rolled over, blinking rapidly up at the shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed. It was the slim, lithe figure that Troy would recognize immediately, especially after an entire night of exploring it._

_Gabriella._

_The night's events rushed back to him in a wild frenzy. It had been… amazing. Wonderful. The highlight of his life. He smiled even at the thought, a bit of his sleepiness ebbing away, although some still remained. After all, if the clock was anything to go by, he had only been asleep for three hours at the most._

_Gabriella was faced away from him, wrapping the blanket that usually was spread across Troy's bed securely around herself. Troy didn't even register what he was doing as he grabbed around on the floor for his boxers, slipped them on, and stood up. The air was cold, slamming against him mercilessly. But he didn't care – all that mattered was that she stayed with him._

_She couldn't leave._

_Coming up from behind her, Troy smoothly wrapped his arms around her small wais, pulling her close to him. Gabriella gasped in shock – apparently she hadn't heard him coming up behind her. Troy ran his hands up and down her sides, leaning in and whispering questioningly, "Where are you going?"_

_Gabriella stiffened, and as if by instinct Troy nuzzled into her neck. Shakily, she murmured, "Home."_

_"Why?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by her skin._

_The question seemed to stump her. While he waited for an answer, Troy began exploring her neck and collarbone softly with little butterfly kisses. Shivering at his touch, Gabriella finally said, "It's a one night stand."_

_"It doesn't have to be."_

_"It doesn't?" her voice sounded uncertain, but Troy could sense hope in her tone as well. His spirits lifted slightly. She wanted it to mean more, too._

_"No. And you don't have to leave. Stay," kissing his way back up to her ear, Troy added, "Please?"_

_Troy Bolton had never said _please_ in his life. And that was not even an exaggeration. Yet here he was, pleading for Gabriella Montez, of all people, to stay with him._

_If someone had asked Troy two years previous about where he would be on Saturday July 19, 2007, he never would've guessed this. The fact that no one else would've guessed it either didn't help placate him much._

_She was melting into him; Troy could feel her relaxing into his body, nestling against him perfectly. He smiled softly down at her – not that she could see it, or anything, which Troy actually preferred. The smile only widened as Gabriella whispered so softly that it was barely audible, "Okay."_

_Troy exhaled deeply. Okay._

_'Okay' was good._

_'Okay' was a start._

------

She couldn't leave.

The thought invaded Troy's brain. Standing up in a flash, he slipped on the nearest pair of jeans before running down the stairs two at a time. She couldn't leave.

Almost out of habit, Troy slowed as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Carefully entering the living room where he had first kissed Gabriella, Troy looked around, examining the discarded clothing on the floor. And then there she was, standing in the middle of all of the mess in only her underwear and bra. On the floor, the blanket that she had wrapped around herself the night before was lying in a puddle at her feet. Troy wondered why it wasn't wrapped around her until he noticed she was in the process of slipping on her jeans.

She didn't see that he was in the room with her.

With this in mind, Troy took the moment to examine her. Gabriella was still as beautiful as ever, despite her messy hair and wrinkled jeans. As her head tilted upwards – though her eyes remained glued to her jeans, he could see the smudged makeup that looked still as alluring as it had the night before. Next to her on the couch were her keys, jacket, and clutch – he guessed that she had retrieved them from the kitchen before putting her clothes on. Troy made himself stop analyzing her and instead focus on the big picture.

She was leaving and he had to stop her.

Just thinking these thoughts made panic hit Troy like it had never hit him before. He had never been afraid like this before. Because he wanted Gabriella. He wanted her to stay, and she was the only girl that would ever consider leaving. So he said yet another word that he had never uttered to anyone in his life.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up, surprise and guilt etched on her face. Troy suddenly realized, with a pang of hurt that was more painful than he had expected it to be, that she had intended to make a clean getaway. She didn't want to see him. Still crouched over despite the fact her jeans were securely fastened, Gabriella noticeably hesitated before standing erect, remained stock still like a dear caught in the headlights. She blushed, Troy assumed this was because she still wasn't wearing a shirt, despite the fact he had seen it all the night before.

He wanted a few seconds for a response, but it didn't come.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Troy said, his voice kept carefully neutral. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and was very aware at that moment of how vulnerable he was. But he wouldn't let any of the insecurity leak into his voice – maybe desperation would help him plead his case to Gabriella, but that wasn't the way he did things. That wasn't the way he knew. Troy knew how to hide his feelings. Anyways, the conversation was awkward enough as it was. He didn't need to make it any more uncomfortable.

Gabriella blinked, directing her gaze towards him. Looking anywhere but at his eyes, she said in this vague sort of trance-like voice, "I've never done that before."

It was safe to say that Troy hadn't expected that.

"Gabi," Troy choked out after a moment of disbelief, not quite sure how to finish, "I'm pretty sure you've had sex before."

Frowning in a mix of surprise and confusion, Gabriella's face turned even redder as she elaborated, "No, I mean I've never had spontaneous sex, you know? I'm not really sure what to do." She hesitated before asking suddenly, "Have you?"

"Yes."

She didn't seem surprise, but he could tell she was disappointed all the same. Still – looking a bit afraid of what the answer would be – Gabriella asked the next question, just like he knew she would, "Did you… like it?"

"Only with you," Troy told her truthfully.

Gabriella shifted awkwardly, saying uncertainly, "Oh."

Troy watched her, a bit surprised when she spoke again. Only this time it was to ask, "Hey, do you mind if I borrow a sweatshirt or something? I don't really want to walk into my house with the same stuff I wore yesterday."

"Yeah," Troy answered, a bit too quickly. He told her to wait one second and returned to his room – making sure not to go to fast – and picked out a plain gray sweatshirt. It was probably one of the only ones he had that didn't say anything East High on it. He vaguely wished it was clean – he had worn it just the day before – but that couldn't be helped.

She had already put her shirt on when Troy had come back down, and she quickly slipped the sweatshirt over her head. It was a couple of sizes too big, but Troy knew she liked her sweatshirts that way. Wrapping her arms around herself, she murmured, "Thanks, Troy."

Troy nodded, and then asked the question he had been dying to get an answer to ever since he had woken up that morning, "So, are you going to avoid me now? Pretend like we've never met? Throw something?"

Smiling thinly, she told him, "I was going to go for option D."

"All of the above?"

"No, acting like it never happened," Gabriella corrected him, her smile widening, though just by a fraction.

"Oh," Troy hesitated before venturing uncertainly, "does that mean we're back to being friends?"

He waited for her reply, shifting impatiently but not uttering even one complaint.

"What do you want?" she asked eventually.

"Well, it's your choice, but I was kind of hoping for the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing," Troy said in almost complete apathy, shrugging in the hopes that doing so would lessen the enormity of what he was saying.

Silence.

Gabriella blinked rapidly in poorly disguised shock. Shaking her head, she repeated confusedly, "Boyfriend… girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," Troy affirmed, his voice still devoid of all the emotion that was pouring out of his eyes.

"Why?"

"You're interesting," Troy said in a carefully calculated voice, noting that this seemed to be his answer for a lot of things regarding Gabriella. He took several steps closer to her, so that their lips were inches apart. He placed one hand on the small of her back, and the other on her neck, making Gabriella shiver. Troy leaned forward, making a trail of kisses starting at her jaw and ending at her ear. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it as she felt his mouth caressing the sensitive crevice just under her ear. Softly he murmured into her skin, "It's more that sex, Gabi."

And, both of them knew, that statement said much more than Troy could put into plain words.

They stood like that for a long time, Gabriella unconsciously leaning into Troy's body. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her steady. Neither of them was sure how much time had past, but suddenly Troy felt Gabriella shift. And then she was untangling herself from him gently, a clearly troubled look on her face.

"I-I've got to go," Gabriella stuttered nervously, out of breath. "Uh, can I call you later? I need to think a bit, if you know what I mean."

"Think," Troy repeated slowly. He didn't get it, but that was okay. He'd wait. "Yeah, sure. Call – we can meet or… whatever."

"Okay," she whispered, and Troy watched her leave, taking her keys and clutch with her.

It was only after her car had pulled out of the driveway that Troy discovered that Gabriella had forgotten her jacket.

------

Zeke Baylor wasn't like anyone else. Everyone agreed on it – he wasn't intimidating like Troy, or oblivious like Jason. He didn't party like Chad or dance like Ryan. Zeke wasn't uptight or unbelievably smart or some sort of prodigy. He just played basketball. And baked. He_ loved_ to bake. Zeke knew he could be a really good basketball player, if he wanted to work hard enough. But Zeke didn't want to be a basketball player.

He wanted to be a chef.

Zeke was lucky. He knew he was.

People envied him – they wanted his pressure-free life, outgoing personality, and popularity. Sure, Chad was the center of attention, and Troy pulled all of the strings, but Zeke just rolled with it. His rise to popularity seemed effortless. He was on varsity basketball without the stress of being the coach's son, and his friends didn't shun him just because he loved baking.

Yes, life was good.

There was only one role that Zeke had to take on. He was the peacekeeper. He'd be the one trying to break up fights between West High and East High. Troy Bolton would just walk away or show Vincent Montez who was the boss (if it called for that), and the girls would scream or cry or whatever. All of the other guys just punched whoever was within their reach. Zeke was the one who tried to get everything in order.

Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to get into a fight, or go to a club and have a one night stand. Sometimes he had the strongest urge to just punch someone, or to go and do something drastic, like dye his hair blue. But he never did.

Because, you know, he was Zeke Baylor.

Sure, Zeke had felt this ill-natured 'urges' before. However, he had never been so compelled to follow out such an urge as he was at that particular moment. And, seeing as Chad was the one he really was tempted to punch, it was being increasingly difficult to resist. After all, it was only Chad.

"Dude, you really fucked up this time."

Zeke visibly tensed at Chad's comment, knowing exactly what he was directing it to. Chad, however, remained oblivious, as always. So Zeke knew better to be surprised when Chad just continued, "I just want you to know that I'm behind you all the way. You got an idea on how to drop her?"

"I'm not planning on breaking up with her, Chad," Zeke hissed. Well, Zeke Baylor wasn't really the hissing type. But if he_ did_ hiss, he would've been at that moment. As it was, Zeke was pretty sure his voice had a teensy, weensy bit of hissing in it… not enough that Chad noticed, though.

But, then again, Chad Danforth didn't notice much.

It wasn't that he was _stupid_, really. He just, well, tended to not notice things. And, you know, say some dumb and/or rude stuff. And be tactless. But he was definitely smart… kind of. In his own way.

Okay, so maybe it _was _because he was stupid.

"Aw, come on, man," Chad said, rolling his eyes. "You know Evans is a complete bitch – and fucking _insane_, too. Has she ever dragged you along to go shopping with her? It's _hell_. And you know the only person she _isn't _bitchy to is Troy Bolton, and you're no Troy Bolton."

This was true.

Zeke Baylor may have been a good chef, he may have been a good basketball player, and he may have been envied for his carefree life.

But he was no Troy Bolton.

Troy Bolton was intimidating, ruthless, manipulative, and everything in between. Zeke remembered the time when Troy broke Vincent Montez's nose one day when Montez tried to insinuate Sharpay was a whore. And he ruptured Sean Carson's spleen when Sean had bragged about how Troy didn't have what it took to stand up to West High (which Sean wrongly assumed because of Troy's habit to let Chad lead East High in it's hating of West High).

But there were other things, too. He had kicked numerous cheerleaders off the squad (thanks to help from Raleigh, the captain) for being too loud, distracting, or stalkerish around him… and a few just because he felt like it, Zeke suspected. He had gotten a few kids expelled, too – mostly for not respecting Troy's authority. Whether noticing or not, Troy Bolton was a mastermind, a genius at work.

Girls wanted to be with him, and so they'd brag about having sex or fooling around with _the_ Troy Bolton. Any girl who lied about what they had done, however, would find themselves in particularly sticky situations, whether it being with their parents or the school. The worst one was definitely Katarina Hayes. Troy discovered she had bragged about having sex with him (when they hadn't done anything whatsoever), and a week later she was caught in a drug bust, expelled, and sent to rehab.

Then again, Zoey Lambert could've been the worst, too. She was the one that had said she and Troy were dating after he had a quick make-out session with her. Last thing Zeke had heard of Zoey, she was at a convent where girls were 'reformed' because her parents were sent by mail several_ pictures_ of her. Pictures that Zeke knew for a fact one of Zoey's older boyfriends had taken of her, and then willingly handed over to Troy.

The point was, Troy wasn't the nicest guy.

In fact, the only person he even remotely could stand was Sharpay Evans.

Why, no one knew.

Troy could be an apathetic, cruel, and manipulative jerk to everyone else, but to Sharpay he was mildly nice. At least, he wasn't completely bitchy. And that was definitely an improvement, no matter how small.

Zeke hated it. He hated how Troy and Sharpay had that relationship, a relation ship he longed for with her. He _loved_ her, for God's sake. Troy barely acknowledged her, even on one of his good days.

It was screwed up.

His anger doubling at the mention of Troy and Sharpay's friendship and attitudes towards each other, Zeke clenched his fists and said as evenly as he could, "I really like Sharpay, okay? So lay off."

Chad's eyes widened. Shocked, all he could say was, "Whoa, you serious?"

Zeke just scowled – a rare occurrence indeed – and stood up. His chair fell to the ground, but he didn't even acknowledge it. Storming out of Chad's house, he failed to realize that he had left his basketball bag and water bottle inside until he was already backing out of the Danforth's driveway. And by then he was too stubborn to go back inside.

"Hey," Zeke said as cheerily as he could.

Pause.

"Zeke, hun, you okay? You sound… _angry_," Sharpay said on the other line, sounding confused.

Zeke shook his head rapidly, as if to shake out all of his anger, before replying, "I'm fine. What's up with you?"

Apparently his voice was sufficiently better, because Sharpay instantly perked up and told him excitedly, "A bunch of people are coming over – we're having a barbecue by the pool. Going out for lunch every Saturday is getting pretty old, you know? Anyways, some people are already here, and it should last until night. You have anything going on for the rest of the day? I mean, I know you were going over to Chad's to shoot some hoops or whatever, but if you're done come on over!"

Zeke checked the clock. Three o'clock. He replied, "Sure that works. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. That okay?"

"Great," Sharpay squealed, and Zeke smiled. He loved making her happy. "Oh, but don't bother bringing a swimsuit. I saw a couple when I was shopping yesterday and just _had_ to buy them for you. You'll love them, trust me."

"Ten minutes, then," Zeke corrected.

He and Sharpay said their good-byes. Hanging up, Zeke eagerly turned left and made his way to Sharpay's house.

Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of her front door. Knocking uncertainly – the gigantic square-footage and over-all luxuriousness of the Evans' mansion was daunting, to say the least.

A butler opened the door, and stiffly led Zeke to some sort of TV room, where Sharpay was lying on a vibrant red couch sort of thing and Troy was sitting across from her in a matching chair. Troy's iPod was docked on Sharpay's iHome, and DMB's Jimi Thing was blaring loudly out of the speakers.

Zeke's happiness faded slightly as he caught sight of the second occupant of the room, who looked like he hadn't slept at all the night before. Zeke hadn't thought Troy would be there.

Sharpay looked up, smiling widely at Zeke, "Great, you're here! Nate _was_ here, but he had to go and get Alejandro, so it's just us three. Matt and Alex are on their way. Ryan and Ral will be here soon, too."

"Awesome!" Zeke said, happy again. So what if Troy was there? He and Shar could still have fun.

Or not.

As soon as Sharpay had dragged Zeke over to the couch, sitting him down in just the right place so that she could lay down with her head on his lap (he certainly didn't complain about _that_), her gaze turned to Troy. Frowning and examining him, she pursed her lips and asked, "So, are you going to tell me what's up?"

"Shar…" Troy said warningly.

Normally anyone else would shut up immediately, if they valued the current state of their lives. But Sharpay wasn't just anyone else. She just continued, "Seriously. You look way different. Something happened."

Troy shut his eyes, leaning back. If Zeke didn't know better, he'd say Troy had fallen asleep. Apparently, Sharpay knew better, too. She just started listing off everything that was different about him.

"You have messed up hair, chapped lips…" She recited. Troy opened his eyes and stared at her, clearly irritated. Zeke was mildly impressed – he hadn't seen Troy this… open before. Although, for a regular person he wasn't being open in the least. Sharpay didn't seem to care, she just continued her list.

"…Bags under your eyes… your eyes–" Sharpay gasped, clearly noticing something Zeke didn't, before announcing triumphantly, "_Oh my God_. You have sex eyes! That's it!"

She sat up, now on the edge of her seat, as if discovering this was a major feat.

Zeke eyed her uncertainly, wondering if she was high or something.

Troy sighed wearily, giving Sharpay a plainly tired look before replying, "Shar, I have no idea what in the hell your talking about."

"Oh. My. God. You _so_ do! Troy Bolton, you had _sex_ last night!"

Zeke blinked. He was starting to wonder if some of what Chad had said was true. I mean, Sharpay certainly _sounded _crazy at that particular moment in time.

This thought promptly flew away when Troy shrugged noncommittally. If it were anyone but Troy Bolton, this wouldn't mean much. But it _was_ him, and in Troy Bolton's twisted-sort-of-language, a shrug was sort of his way of confirming information. He never could just do things the easy way…

Anyways, the point was, Sharpay was _right_.

It took all of Zeke's willpower to stop his jaw from dropping to the ground. Troy _had_ had sex the night before. Then, of course, Zeke's thoughts turned to wondering how the hell Sharpay had known. She had spent all of the previous night with Zeke himself, first at a house party down the street and then in her bed. As far as he knew, Sharpay hadn't spoken to Troy that entire night, or anytime during the day Saturday.

What was up with that?

Sharpay grinned widely – not unlike an insane person would – and boasted, "I _knew _it! There was something about you – and it was the sex eyes! So, who was it, huh? Not one of the Jennifers, right?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Better not have been Marissa, either. Or any cheerleader, for that matter. They're all sluts – well, except for Claire, and Emily… Anyways, I'm getting off topic. Who was it?"

Zeke saw Troy frown, as if trying to remember. Finally he told her, "Stacey Willard."

Stacey Willard wasn't a cheerleader. She played volleyball, and was sort of nice. Incredibly sexy, too. In fact, she looked even more like a stereotypical cheerleader than some of the _actual_ cheerleaders at East High. She just, you know, wasn't one. For the purposes Troy was referring to, however, (namely, sex) Stacey Willard was the equivalent of any East High cheerleader.

Sharpay wilted as soon as the name reached her ears, though Zeke had no idea why. I mean, this was Troy Bolton, after all. It wasn't like he'd ever sleep with Kelsi Neilson or Martha Cox or someone like that. It made sense that he'd sleep with a girl like Stacey – a bimbo with a great body and nonexistent brain.

Sighing dejectly, Sharpay said, "Oh, so that means it was just a one night thing."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Troy asked, his voice like steel.

Sharpay pursed her lips, snapping, "Oh, come _on_, Troy. This is me you're talking to! Can't you just pick someone that'll make you, you know…"

She trailed off. Zeke stood there, stunned. He had _never _seen anyone talk to Troy like that – hell, if anyone said anything even close to what Sharpay had said, they would've been down on the ground with a broken nose. Either that or they'd end up being shunned by the school.

Zeke tensed, ready to protect his girlfriend – Troy was too much of a gentleman to hit a girl, but there was no telling what verbal assaults would be thrown her way – but never ended up needing to. Troy just looked her in the eye and said, "Yeah, I know."

Both Zeke and Sharpay could hear the two words he left out – 'fuck off'. Sighing, Sharpay bit her lip in disappointment before perking up a moment later, saying, "Oh, Troy, by the way, I got you a few swimsuits. They're Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, and Marc Jacobs. Go and put one on – the Tommy one, I think – and then we can go swimming. Zeke, I bought a couple for you, too, like I said. They're all in my room."

"Uh, cool, Sharpay. Thanks. You didn't have to do that for us," Zeke said, and Troy mentally shook his head at the awkwardness in Zeke's voice. Sharpay, Zeke now noticed, was already in a bright metallic purple bikini with a matching cover up.

Rolling her eyes, Sharpay said, "Oh, please, you know this is my pastime, Zeke. I like doing stuff like this." She waved her arms, gesturing for them to go away, as she added, "Now _go_ already. Ry and Ral should be here any second now."

"Yeah," Troy said, nodding and looking at Zeke with blank eyes.

Zeke frowned. He looked around, trying not to look too confused. He had been in Sharpay's room a couple days in a row, but still had no idea how to get to it by himself. The Evans' mansion was _big. _Seeming to know what the problem was, Troy stood up and led the way. Gratefully getting up, Zeke followed him through the multiple rooms before entering Sharpay's.

"Hey, Troy," Zeke asked awkwardly as Troy made his way over to Sharpay's bed, where two labeled shopping bags sat, "how did you know the way to Sharpay's room?"

Troy shrugged, picking up the Ralph Lauren bag with his name clearly written on it in permanent marker. Evenly he said, "I come here a lot."

"Oh."

Troy opened his bag, and hastily Zeke picked up his, rifling through it. He stared in shock at the two swimsuits folded neatly inside. The price tags had been removed before they were washed, but he could still tell that the swimsuits weren't Wal-Mart quality. Or even Abercrombie and Fitch. He eyed the two bathing suits. One was blue with two white strips on each side, and the other was Nantucket red with the Ralph Lauren symbol stitched onto one pocket. Which one should he put on?

"The blue one."

Zeke jumped, his gaze snapping from the swimsuits to Troy's placid face. Seeing the alarm in Zeke's features, Troy elaborated with impatience evident in his voice and features, "It's a test. You're supposed to put on the blue one."

Troy then proceeded to walk into Sharpay's bathroom and slip on the green swimsuit Sharpay had given him. Zeke didn't dare question his basketball captain, and hastily put on the blue swimsuit before Troy was finished and came out.

He did come out, just a few seconds after Zeke was ready. Not even acknowledging his fellow teammate and "friend", Troy just put his pants into the bag with the other two swimsuits of his and walked out. Zeke, noticing Troy still had his tee shirt on, quickly grabbed his and stuffed his shorts inside the shopping bag with his name on it. Troy was already on his way out of Sharpay's door, and Zeke had to jog to catch up.

They didn't speak for the entire way to the pool area – Troy because he had nothing to say, and Zeke because he was too busy trying to memorize the way from Sharpay's room to the backdoor (and also because he was too nervous to address Troy).

Only when Troy was reaching out to open the sliding glass door leading out to the pool did Zeke work up the gumption to ask, "What's the point of the test?"

Troy didn't even bother to look at Zeke as he said indifferently, "You don't need to know."

Zeke wanted to ask more, but then they were within hearing range of Sharpay, Ryan, and Raleigh (who had apparently just arrived), and his nerves took over again.

------

**Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter… I'm not sure if this is what you all are expecting, but it's the way the story is headed. Zeke reveals a lot about Troy's not-so-nice nature, especially towards girls that lie about sleeping with him. Hey, with his attitude he can't be THAT good of a guy, can he? Keep in mind, however, that he only does it to people that have seriously lied... sorry, that's me defending Troy a bit. Hey, at least he's not taking lunch money! That's way to cliche.**

**Also, I've written up a rough outline and concluded that this fic should be ABOUT 30 to 35 chapters, although this is subject to change… and it probably will. In addition, I can guarantee AT LEAST one sequel (that I'm itching to write) and most likely another one as well. I'm heavily considering making at least one Sharpay-centric, for reasons that will come into play later.**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! Thanks for reading and please review!! **

**-Steph**


	11. In Negotiations

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, like Vincent.

-

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note:** So, my computer charger/cord thing isn't working, I have several projects and tests on the near as well as distant horizon, as well as dance everyday after school, and that's not counting the other daily things in my life. Anyways, life is hectic, the Pats are in the Super Bowl (my dad's going, and I'm insanely jealous), and Super Tuesday's coming up (yeah, I'm probably the only 15-year-old in the U.S. that voluntarily follows the presidential race, at least that's what everyone I know things). It's a pretty eventful week, and chapter 10 only adds to it! Mhmm so this chapter definately isn't a filler, I can tell you that much. For more info, you will just have to read it. Sorry for the wait, but writing comes in spurts for me (sucks, I know).

**This chapter is dedicated to cheerleader101 for the wonderfully thoughtful and complimentary PM she sent me recently. Have a good senior year!!**

------

**Chapter 10: In Negotiations**

_Could you whisper in my ear  
The things you wanna feel  
I'll give you anything  
To feel it comin'  
Do you wake up on your own  
And wonder where you are  
You live with all your faults I wanna wake up where you are  
I won't say anything at all  
So why don't you slide  
Yeah we're gonna let it slide_

_- Slide, The Goo Goo Dolls_

------

Gabriella knew she had really screwed up this time.

Sleeping with TroyBolton? Had she been high or something? Swearing over and over again, Gabriella punched her pillow repeatedly, hoping to release some of her anger. It didn't work. All she succeeded in was looking like she was having a temper tantrum. Sighing, Gabriella got up off of her bed. 

What was she supposed to do now?

She had returned from Troy's about fifteen minutes previous only to find herself in an empty house, and, as she realized a few seconds afterwards, without her jacket. That was just the icing on the cake. Her mother wasn't home, and wouldn't be until the next morning – never had Gabriella been so grateful that she traveled so much for work. And Vincent, he wasn't there, either. She should've been worried, but she wasn't. She knew he would find his way home probably ten minutes before their mother arrived. He always did. Besides, Gabriella had much more important things to worry about.

Like whether or not to go out with Troy Bolton.

Looking at it objectively, she knew that it would be stupid to say anything but no. I mean, he was from East High, after all. He was her brother's rival. All of her friend and family hated him – and in turn everyone that knew Troy would hate her. He was an enigma and impossible to figure out. And they had sex on their first date. That alone wasn't very promising.

Then again, it had been very good sex.

Gabriella wondered if all one-night stands were that good. It wasn't like she had any others to compare her experience with Troy with. She had only slept with one guy before Troy, and it had quite possibly been the worst experience of her life. Then again, he had been her boyfriend of four months, and she hadn't thought she was ready. With Troy, she didn't even think. She just… did it. And she had only been on one date with him.

She had to admit, she wouldn't mind having sex with him again. Stuff like that didn't come around everyday, right? Gabriella shook her head violently. Now look at her. She was acting like some sort of sex-crazed… _airhead_. Disgusted, Gabriella refused to think about it anymore.

Despite the fact that she hadn't had many relationships, Gabriella knew she didn't want one based solely on sex, no matter how amazing it was. Besides, this was Troy Bolton she was talking about. Having a relationship with him would be difficult enough; if she was going to do it, Gabriella at least wanted it to be worth it. She could find someone from West High to have unattached sex with if that was what she needed.

But Troy was talking about a real relationship. And she knew he was serious – even though his voice didn't convey much emotion at all, she could see everything he wasn't able to convey into words in his eyes.

If anyone else was saying that, she would've scoffed at the corniness. It was exactly something Colette would say. But it didn't seem so silly now, because she was Gabriella Montez and the topic at hand was Troy Bolton. Gabriella wryly acknowledge the irony of it… the tables had definitely turned.

Biting her lip, Gabriella glanced around, knowing she should probably take a shower. She had caught a glance her herself in her mirror just moments before, and was afraid to look again. Gabriella was the type of person that had very oily hair, and she tended to rub her eyes in her sleep – neither of which worked in her favor. _Ever_. Her hair looked like a greasy bird's nest, and she had mascara eyes. To top it all off, she was wearing Troy's sweatshirt. 

Well, she wasn't actually complaining about wearing his sweatshirt. She liked his sweatshirt. It was warm, and comfortable, and smelled just like him. If she was his girlfriend, she could wear his clothes whenever she wanted. That wouldn't be such a bad thing… if they were going out.

But, at that moment, they weren't going out, and as a result the sweatshirt was just weighing her down. It was a constant reminder of what had taken place the night before.

Taking the sweatshirt off with a mix of relief and regret, she then proceeded to slip out of her jeans and pull her shirt over her head. She glared at the shirt. It was flirty, kind of. Was that what made Troy kiss her? Was it all because of a stupid, flirty shirt?

Maybe she should burn it.

Gabriella bit her lip. She was definitely going to become insane if she kept going on like this. So, now only in her bra and underwear (which didn't match, by the way – if she had known Troy was going to see them, she definitely would have made sure they matched), she made her way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it would go and then turning around, catching herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the door.

Narrowing her eyes, Gabriella examined herself. Did she look any different? Her hair was the same, although badly in need of washing. She didn't seem any taller, or sexier, or curvier. She just looked like plain old Gabriella.

Well, except for the eyes. They looked… brighter. Sparkly. Maybe that's what good sex did to your eyes. Gabriella wouldn't know, this was the first good sex she'd ever had. Urg, out of all of the people to have her first good sex with, she just_ had_ to choose Troy Bolton. Stupid Troy Bolton, with his stupid good sex.

Well, at least her eyes were the only things that were different. Except…

Gabriella swore, she actually swore out loud to herself as she moved closer to the mirror for a better look. And then she swore again, because those were definitely hickeys. Four of them. Four stupid hickeys made by stupid Troy Bolton because they just _had _to have stupid good sex.

She didn't really like to swear, but at that moment Gabriella didn't really think 'stupid' was a strong enough word to describe her feelings. So, in the hopes of getting her anger out, Gabriella tried out something different. But saying 'fuck you, Troy Bolton' out loud several times just made everything seem worse. Because, after all, she_ had_ fucked him.

There was no way in hell she would go out with him. Those hickeys were enormous.

But then Gabriella got into the shower 

It was all the shower's fault, she knew, because as soon as she stepped under the steaming hot water she didn't feel so mad at Troy. In fact, she started to wonder if maybe they could do it again…

Good sex wasn't all that bad, really.

And Troy's sex was better than good – it was sensational. There was no way to describe the way his hands felt as they explored her body, or how his chest felt pressed up against hers. Even now she could feel his lips on her neck, his hands tracing invisible designs on her thighs. She could feel his hair between her fingers, and could hear his gasps and moans as her lips trailed down his stomach. 

But then it wasn't just the sex.

This Troy Bolton, the one she had unbelievably hot and unforgettable sex with, was the same one that she could carry on a conversation with, that seemed to understand everything about her and didn't seem to care about her flaws. It was the same person that would give her advice, listen patiently, and know exactly what to say to make her feel better. The amazing guy that she could talk to for hours without running out of anything to say, and then moments later just sit in silence with, because talking didn't seem necessary.

He was the type of guy she never thought would bother to look twice at her. And yet Troy had bothered. He had asked her out, spent the night with her, and then asked her to stay with him and be his girlfriend. He would be a perfect boyfriend, like one from a book – a book with a Romeo and Juliet theme, unfortunately.

There were a million good reasons why she and Troy just worked. And the most important one was that she liked him. She liked him more than a friend, more than a brother, she _like_ liked him. She liked him more than she had ever liked anyone else in her life.

And she wanted him to be hers. Her boyfriend. Her Troy, and not anyone else's. 

Gabriella had determined this by the time she had gotten out of the shower, and her decision became definite as soon as she laid eyes on Troy's sweatshirt. She wanted to be his girlfriend. Gabriella bit her lip – she had said she'd call him and they'd meet up. She had told him she'd get back to him about her answer. He was waiting.

She should call him, she knew. 

But she didn't. Not yet.

------

Troy didn't hear from Gabriella at all on Saturday or on Sunday. Two whole days. Two days in which his life basically consisted of playing basketball and ensuring that his cell phone was always by his side. _Always_. Even when he was hanging out with Sharpay.

Actually, Troy made a point to_ not_ be around Sharpay too much in those two days, because she was still acting a little bit weird about the 'sex eyes' thing. Although he knew she was by no means smart enough to figure out what was going on, she still wasn't quite as stupid as her grades indicated, and he had no wish to tempt fate. Therefore, it was much safer to hang out with Jason and Chad and his other basketball friends. 

Sure, they lacked stimulating conversation, but these days, who didn't? Well, besides Gabriella. Even Sharpay wasn't particularly engaging, although she wasn't quite so bad as everyone else, if only because she talked enough for both of them put together. Eh, not ideal at some times, but Troy was one to take what he could get.

The point is, Troy practiced basketball that weekend. A lot.

In fact, that was what he was doing when Gabriella sent him the text message Monday afternoon.

"Dude, there's no fucking way you could actually want to play again," Chad said, eyeing Troy the way one would eye a mentally unstable person. Behind Chad, Jason Cross was collapsed on the grass next to the cooler they had brought out, which contained water and Gatorade bottles, and Zeke was chugging a bottle of Gatorade. 

Troy frowned, eying all of them with distaste. Dribbling the ball a few more times, he answered shortly, "Yeah, well not everyone has unbelievably low stamina like you."

If it had been Gabriella, she would've rolled her eyes. She would've scoffed and proceeded to inform him that it was him that had unbelievably_ high_ stamina. But it wasn't Gabriella, it was Chad. And Chad didn't have any guts when it came to Troy. So he groaned, trying to stand up straight with out swaying, and said, "Fine, we can play one more."

Troy gave him a look, because both of them knew that Troy was the only one out of all four of them that had enough energy left to keep on playing. Normally, Troy knew, he would also be tired and ready to be done. But he knew resting would be virtually pointless – he hadn't relaxed since Gabriella had left him. Troy had been unbelievably energetic and alert, which he was sure would be noticeable to Sharpay. But, you know, no one else thought to care, not that it was hard to miss, or anything. Hell, he couldn't even sleep without waking up at uneven intervals for no apparent reason, leaving him unable to get back to sleep.

That was Saturday night. Sunday night, things changed a bit, because Troy wasn't waking up for no apparent reason. He was having dreams – dreams with Gabriella as the prominent character.

In his defense, sleeping with Gabriella had quite possibly been the best thing that happened to him. Troy couldn't help but relive the way her nails felt as they dug into his back, or the erotic feeling of her lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his front. In those dreams, he experienced everything about Gabriella Montez over and over again. They were the best dreams he had ever had.

Until he woke up from them, sweating, in the middle of the night with a hard on.

Needless to say, Troy took a very long cold shower in the morning.

Then Troy's phone started to go off. Striding over towards it – not to quickly, obviously – Troy flipped it open, and his heart very nearly stopped when he saw who was calling.

Not wasting any time, Troy flipped open his cell phone and asked, "Yeah?"

" Troy?" Gabriella asked after a moment of hesitation.

Taking a quick glance at his friends, who were not on the other side of the court laughing as they lay in the grass, Troy said, "Yeah, it's me – hang on a second."

"Okay."

Troy frowned at his friends before making his way over to his back porch and then walking through the sliding glass door. The air conditioning hit him, a drastic change from the one-hundred degree weather outside, and Troy gratefully sat down on his counter – thanking whatever higher power that had made his parents go out for lunch together. Only then did Troy say to Gabriella, "Sorry about that. What's up?"

Another hesitation. Then Gabriella's sweet and uncertain voice filled his ears, asking, "I was just wondering if you wanted to meet up, or something. You know, so we can talk."

Troy grinned, trying to keep the smile out of his voice as he said, "If you're ready – when?"

"Um, when do you have time?"

"I'll make time, Gabi. Whatever works for you, works for me," Troy said seriously, watching through the window as Chad and Jason started a water fight, without really seeing anything.

Gabriella seemed rather surprised at his words, and Troy picked up on it. Sighing inwardly, he shifted the phone from one hand to the other, freeing his right hand so that he could open the fridge and grab a fresh water bottle. As he did so, he listened as Gabriella said, " Troy, I know you have a life – you don't have to go and act like I'm the only person in it."

"You're not the only person in it," Troy said matter-of-factly, "you're just the only person I really give a damn about right now."

"Oh, so are there phases?" Gabriella questioned. "Will you suddenly care about your other friends next week?"

"It's not like that," Troy said flatly. "You're different than them."

There were so many things he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that he didn't give a damn about his friends, and that they were nothing compared to her. He wanted to explain how she meant the most, and always would. That way, Gabriella would know that his heart beat for her, and that he needed her much more than it initially seemed. She would know that she was different, she was special, and she was a world away from his friends.

But he was Troy Bolton, and Troy Bolton didn't say things like that. 

He just waited for her response, which wasn't actually a response at all. She just paused before asking, "Does three o'clock this afternoon work?"

"That's fine," Troy said, eyeing Chad, Jason, and Zeke out the window, to ensure they hadn't moved. They hadn't. "Our usual place?"

"Of course," Gabriella said playfully, and Troy smiled, because this was the Gabriella he loved. 

"Sounds good, and Gabi?" Troy asked, feeling the need to answer her unasked question.

"Yeah?"

"Just so you know, I'll never forget you."

And then Troy hung up, because he was too afraid to hear what her response would be. Running a hand through his hair, he stood up abruptly and went back outside, shaking away all sense of emotion as he trudged over to his friends and said, "You guys have to go – something came up."

They all froze – Jason dropping his water bottle, Zeke sitting up from his position on the ground, and Chad freezing mid-squirt. Standing up, Zeke asked, "Why?"

"Something came up," Troy repeated, and Chad, recognizing the warning in his voice, immediately took action.

Dropping the water bottle in his hands and grabbing his basketball, Chad told Zeke and Jason, "C'mon guys, we can go and swim at my house. See you, Troy."

Troy nodded, and, not even bothering to say anything else, went back into the house. It was one o'clock – which meant Troy had two hours to shower, get dressed, eat, and get to the park.

He watched his friends leave from his position in the kitchen, and only once they were definitely gone did he make his way upstairs to his bathroom. Troy turned on the water, stripping off his shirt and shorts so that he was standing in front of the mirror with only his blue boxers on. 

Troy frowned as he examined himself.

He was a confident person, he knew, not so much because he was conceited but more because he had no reason to _not_ be confident. Troy really did have a damn good life – he was good-looking, a talented athlete, fairly intelligent, and many other things on top of the few mentioned. Troy was a confident person, because there was no reason not to be. The logic made sense to him.

And yet, at that particular moment, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly Gabriella Montez liked about him. There were so many aspects of himself, and he just couldn't figure out which one was the aspect that Gabriella was drawn to.

Did she like that he was sexy? That he was good in bed? No, that wasn't it. She had hung out with him before that as just friends, despite his willingness to take it further. 

Maybe she loved his basketball skills – but that wasn't it either, because if she wanted a basketball player she could just as her brother to set her up.

It could be his intelligent conversation, except for the fact that Gabriella was much smarter than him, and her other friends probably were as well.

So Troy thought about what he liked about Gabriella. Her sexiness, her intelligence, her talent?

It took Troy awhile, though he would never admit it, but when he stepped into the shower it hit him. It was everything, everything rolled into one. He was drawn to the obvious – her smile, the way her body felt against his, and her personality – but at the same time also liked the subtle aspects of her, like the way she laughed at the most insignificant things when she was tired and how she bit her lip when she was thinking hard. 

Maybe that was what she liked about him – the small things _and _the big things. Or maybe it was none of it. Maybe Gabriella didn't like him at all.

By the time Troy was standing in front of his closet with a pair of kaki shorts on and no shirt, he was about ready to beat himself up. What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn't the Troy Bolton he knew – that Troy Bolton would never be this obsessed with a girl. And yet here he was, thinking about her smile and why on earth she actually liked him.

Gabriella had definitely changed him, and Troy wasn't too thrilled about it.

… But it wasn't like anyone would ever know.

Gabriella was a part of his life completely separated from everything else. No one else knew about her or would see him with her. They'd never see the way he acted around her. So who was to say he couldn't act like the new, nicer Troy Bolton around her, and then revert to the old Troy Bolton around everyone else?

Troy smirked to himself as he pulled a red polo out of his closet and pulled it on. That was definitely a plan that worked for him.

So the next length of time passed peacefully, with Troy cherishing his solitude yet at the same time waiting impatiently for time to pass, so he could see Gabriella again.

He got into the car earlier than he needed to, and so waited in the parking lot albeit impatiently, blaring his music in an attempt to sooth his nerves. Then it was 2:55, and Troy knew that it was show time. Turning off the music, he gave himself one last look in the mirror before getting out of his car.

Troy was at the park, the place that he and Gabriella had come to call 'their spot' because more often than not that was where they met. They met under the same tree Gabriella had been sitting against that day that seemed so long ago, when Gabriella had suggested she and Troy had their just-friends 'date'. It was in the perfect spot – secluded, on the edge of the park, and surrounded by other trees. Yet their tree was impossible to miss, because it was so much older and knottier than the others.

Gabriella was already there, leaning facing away from Troy and leaning against the tree. As he approached, he was careful to remain quite and stealthy so Gabriella wouldn't hear him. And she didn't. That was how Troy managed to get so close to her that he could touch her with Gabriella none the wiser. 

He reached out, letting his hands rest lightly on her waist. Gabriella jumped, spinning around with a hand to her chest. Gasping, she said reproachfully, "Troy Bolton, don't you dare do that again. You scared me."

"That would be the point."

She glared, and Troy found it very cute… which was _very_ out-of-character for him. Smiling, Troy let go of her and leaned against the tree. He could tell Gabriella was vaguely surprised that he wasn't trying to come onto her. She was impressed, he knew. 

Which was good, because that meant she couldn't see how much he wanted to kiss her and touch her and all those other things. 

Troy really wanted to. But he knew he had to be strong. He had to be responsible, and he had to prove to her that it wasn't just sex. So he told her casually, "I have your jacket in my car – you left it at my house."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Gabriella said, biting her lip, her anger evaporating quickly. "I'll get it when I leave."

"No problem."

There was a few seconds of silence until Gabriella spoke again. She didn't bother beating around the bush, she just said, "I've thought about it."

Troy raised an eyebrow, asking, "You have?"

"I have," Gabriella confirmed, before continuing, "and I want to give it a shot… I'd like to be your girlfriend. I just have a few… requests, I guess."

"You name it," Troy said, shrugging.

"First of all, I want to take it slow," Troy opened his mouth, but Gabriella held up a hand and just continued, "I know we had sex on our first date, but that's not me. And it's not like this is going to be easy, so I want us to go into this with everything out in the open. And the normal Gabriella Montez would never even consider sleeping with a guy on their first date."

"That's okay," Troy said slowly. "Just – look, I can wait. I can do that." He didn't say the 'I think' part out loud. "But, you're not taking about until marriage, right? Cause that's kind of long… and that'snot the type of guy _I _am."

Gabriella giggled, shaking her head and saying, "Good, cause I'm not that type of girl. I don't even know when – I guess it'll happen when it happens."

"Yeah, it will," Troy said softly before clearing his throat a few moments later and asking, "What else?"

"Um," she shifted uncomfortably before blurting out, "I don't want to tell anyone about us. Not yet. You said yourself you wanted this to work out, and I do, too – but we won't if people are making it more difficult. I want to be open about it, but only once we know we can make it through all the tough stuff." Gabriella hesitated, looking up at Troy worriedly before asking, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it'll work," Troy said comfortingly. Almost on instinct he wrapped is arms around her consolingly. She leaned closer to him and snuggled into his chest, to Troy's delight. In the same soothing voice he continued, "We can do this – no one has to know. I'll go as fast or slow as you want."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, Gabi. Seriously."

They lapsed into a comforting silence.

"You know," Troy said finally, "since we're going with the 'all cards on the table' approach, I think I should tell you that I've never done this before. I've never had a girlfriend. So I might suck at the boyfriend thing."

"That's okay," Gabriella whispered, and Troy could hear the smile in her voice. 

He frowned, pulling away from her slightly so that he could look her in the eye when he said seriously, "I mean it – I might really screw this up. So, just, don't let me, okay? Tell me what I'm doing wrong, and I'll fix it." He hesitated before amending, "Or try to, at any rate. Maybe a compromise would work better, although I've never done that before, either."

Gabriella giggled, teasingly replying, "You're quite a character, you know that?"

"Mhmm, so I've been told."

Troy watched as her laughter was replaced by a curious look. Biting her lip, she asked in a truly curious voice, "Never compromised before, huh?"

"Never," Troy confirmed, completely serious. 

There was another stretch of silence. Peaceful silence. Troy liked that. Then Gabriella asked in a small voice, "Why am I the first? Girlfriend, I mean. Why haven't you asked some other girl before now?"

"Can't stand to be around most of them," he said, softly. "Besides, I feel stuff for you, you know? Like, more than lust or some small crush. I can't really explain it. It's _something_."

"Yeah, I know."

------

**See? Not a filler. Hope it was worth it.**

**Umm... next chapter will probably be about a month into their relationship, because this fic is moving at a snail's pace, and this story goes through New Years at the very least. Yeah, things will definately move along. Also, I might be editing this chapter a lot for grammatical errors... I tend to reread chapters for inspiration and find my little mistakes. Sorry I can't catch everything, but none of my friends know I'm actually writing fanfiction (all they know is that I write) besides one that hates HSM and another that has super strict parents, so she can't get on a computer a lot of the time. Suffice to say, a beta is difficult to come by for me. The point is, if you reread it and something changes or something, that's why.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!! I got 32 reviews for the last chapter... I kind of liked the steady increase from chapter to chapter, but I am by no means complaining. I love you reviewers to death!!**


	12. The S Words

**Disclaimer: **You all know the drill. Yes, I made up this entire, beautifully-crafted plot all by my lonesome. Yes, Vincent, Alex, Nate, Matt, Alejandro, Ral, etc. are mine. Yes, everyone is in awe of my amazing writing ablilities... Oh, right, and no, I don't own HSM or any of the original characters. Happy?

**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author:** Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.

**Author's Note:** So my life is hell right now. If that's not a reasonable excuse as to why I haven't updated as soon as I should have, I don't know what is. Anyways, I know it's not a good excuse, and I DO feel guilty, but there wasn't much I could do. Life is stressful, I've had no time to sit down at a computer for extended periods of time except for when I'm doing my homework, and I've been perpetually tired for the last, I don't know, two months. Sounds like fun, right? And that's basically sugarcoating it. Seriously, I wouldnt' write unless I really couldn't. And as guilty as I feel, it wasn't like I could do anything differently unless I wanted to fail. Right, that's pretty much it. On a lighter note, thanks so much for the reviews!! They really were just the thing to brighten up my day ).

The chapter's dedicated to Desiree Lemmon for her fantastic PMs and reviews :). It's also to make up for the fact that haven't had time to properly review or read her stories yet :(.

Now onto the story, so I can get back to writing my science paper I have to present on Friday.

------

**Chapter 11: The S Words**

_Tell me all that you've thrown away  
find out games you don't wanna play  
you are the only one that needs to know _

I'll keep you my dirty little secret  
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret  
My dirty little secret

Who has to know  
The way she feels inside  
Those thoughts I can't deny 

_-Dirty Little Secret, The All-American Rejects_

------

"… And, I mean, I know the hours are kind of crazy, but the pay's good and… are you even listening to me, Gabriella?"

"Huh?" Gabriella asked in reply. She smiled sheepishly as Taylor rolled her eyes, picking up another stack of books and sliding one at a time into its proper place on the bookshelf.

Taylor said, "I was just telling you about my new job, but I might as well just talk to myself."

Biting her lip and looking suitably sorry, Gabriella said, "I'm sorry, Taylor. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"That's been happening a lot recently."

"I know, I don't know what's up. I've been having the hardest time getting to sleep. It's weird – I mean, it's never happened before…" Gabriella trailed off. This wasn't strictly true. Sure, it was accurate that she hadn't been getting an adequate amount of sleep for the past three weeks, but it wasn't because of an inability to fall asleep. Rather, it was because almost every night after Vincent and her mother went to bed, Gabriella would stay up talking to Troy.

In the three weeks since that day in the park when she had agreed to being Troy's girlfriend, Gabriella's life had changed dramatically. She had only known Troy for roughly a month and a half, and a good chunk of that time had been spent avoiding and disliking him. But now she couldn't seem to remember her life without him. She didn't know what she'd do if she didn't receive those hourly texts from him, which she'd quickly reply to and then have to delete so that no one would see. She wouldn't know how to survive without the nightly calls they shared that could last anywhere from three minutes to three hours. And then there were the cherished moments (mostly on weekends, though sometimes during the week) when they could see each other.

Every now and again Gabriella would marvel at the fact that their secret still remained, well, a secret. Then she'd think about it, and realize that it actually wasn't that surprising. Neither she nor Troy were stupid, and so they had both ensured that they went to every length to cover their tracks.

Every phone call and text message was deleted from their cell phones. Under Gabriella's contacts, Troy was referred to by his middle name, Christopher. This worked out very well, because Gabriella's father's coworker actually had a seventeen-year-old son named Chris that she saw periodically. And because Gabriella never actually contacted Chris, and Coach Montez didn't know his phone number, there were few questions asked when the phone bill came (thank God for unlimited texting and calling). Of course, the limited questions could also have been partly due to the fact that Chris was gay.

Still, the caution also applied to when they met. Gabriella rarely went over to Troy's house, mostly because they both knew on the weekends her house would be empty. And she had the balcony, which Troy would come through every time just in case Taylor or someone was over.

"Anyways," Gabriella asked, trying to break the silence that had drifted over them, "what's up with your new job?"

"Forget about it," Taylor said. She leaned around the edge of the book case to view the check-out area and frowned over at the line, which had grown rather long. Turning back to Gabriella, she said, "I'm going to go over to give Roger and Martin help with the check-out line, is that alright?"

"Yeah," Gabriella agreed, somewhat sad that her friend was leaving, because she knew that Taylor wasn't leaving because she thought Roger and Martin needed assistance. "It'll only take a second to finish shelving these books."

Taylor agreed and left. Gabriella sighed, not sure whether she was happy or sad to be alone.

She didn't have much time to contemplate her situation, however, because not five seconds after Taylor left, a pair of arms was wrapped around her waist.

Though Gabriella instinctively jumped and inhaled sharply, she knew better than to shout. Less than a second later, a low chuckle was heard next to her ear as Troy whispered softly, "You'd think you wouldn't be surprised anymore, Gabi."

"I'm not," she protested, pouting as she turned to face him, his arms now loosely draped around her waist. "You just catch me off guard, that's all."

Grinning, Troy pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, mumbling against her lips, "Whatever you say."

"Exactly, and I say that you shouldn't be here," Gabriella said sternly, gently pulling herself away from Troy's grasp. Frowning up at him, she asked curiously, "Why _are _you here, anyways?"

"I missed you."

Sighing exasperatedly, Gabriella reminded him, "It's Monday, remember? I just saw you yesterday."

"You know," Troy said dryly, leaning up against the edge of the bookshelf and examining her, "you just ruined something that was supposed to be very romantic."

"Well, it's hard to be romantic when we're not supposed to even remotely tolerate each other in public," Gabriella hissed, turning her back to him and picking up the last two books she had to shelve. But Troy wasn't put off at all – he simply wrapped his arms around her waist again, slipping his hands slightly under her shirt so that she could feel the warmth. Shivering slightly at the sensations his touch brought, Gabriella bit her lip.

And then his mouth was at her ear, nibbling at her earlobe before murmuring, "No one's near us – they're all at the front of the store. I checked."

Gabriella didn't reply – she was unable to, because then his lips were trailing down her neck, sending unbelievable feelings through her body. She leaned back into him, allowing Troy to pry the two remaining books out of her grasp and place them in their correct spot on the bookcase.

"The store room, just for a minute?" Troy asked, his voice muffled slightly. Gabriella could only nod, turning to face him reluctantly. Stepping away, he grinned and said, "I'll be waiting."

"Of course you will," she said dryly. "I'll be there as soon as I recycle the box the books were in, alright."

"Perfect," he whispered, leaning in to give her a sweet kiss before adding, his lips only a centimeter or two away from hers, "I really did miss you."

"I missed you, too, Superstar," Gabriella said jokingly, using the nickname she had picked up at their second date. He smirked and winked sexily at her. She giggled, smiling slightly as she watched Troy walk away.

Less than five minutes later, after discarding the box and telling Taylor she'd take over the cash register as soon as she went to the bathroom, Gabriella was making her way over to the storage closet by the bathrooms. Stopping in front of the door for a moment before entering, she glanced around carefully to make sure no one was watching. After ensuring no one was near, she slipping into the storage closet.

And as soon as she did so, Troy's lips were on hers.

Gabriella kissed back eagerly, her hands wrapping around his neck on instinct. Pressing her body up against his, she allowed Troy to spin them around and gently press her up against the wall, kicking the door to the storage closet shut in the process. His lips eagerly caressed hers, even as he slipped his tongue through them and gently pried open her own lips.

Finally, when breathing became necessary, both pulled away, gasping for breath. Troy brought one hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen across her eyes. Shutting her eyes, Gabriella felt that same hand tangle itself in her dark curls as he lowered his head, making a trail of open-mouthed kisses from her jaw down her neck slowly.

"Troy, you can't keep on coming to work like this," Gabriella breathed, her eyes still lazily shut as she tried to catch her breath.

His lips left her skin, and she found herself sorely missing the contact. She heard him murmur, "You don't seem to mind it right now."

"Yeah, well, I will mind when Taylor or my manager walk in on us… which _will _happen one of these days," Gabriella said matter-of-factly while still keeping her voice quiet, opening her eyes to stare into Troy's. As his left hand (the one that wasn't tangled in her hair) traced unidentifiable designs on her lower back, she slid her hands down his chest and stomach in a tantalizingly slow manor. Her petite hands finally rested on the waistband of his jeans, which were pulled down about an inch lower than his boxers.

Her hands were there for only a moment before Troy's hands were gently prying them away, linking her hands with his own and telling her softly, "If I have to go slow, so do you."

"I wouldn't exactly call the pace we're going at 'slow'."

What Gabriella said was true – although Troy and Gabriella hadn't had sex since their… _memorable_ first date, there had admittedly been quite a few close calls. Thinking back, she could remember every date, every stepping stone, every moment that had taken place in their relationship. She wondered if Troy could, too.

There had been the second date, when Troy had made a picnic for her in the park the day after she had agreed to be his girlfriend. It was quite possible the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. He hadn't kissed her, and Gabriella knew better than to be insulted, because he was taking it slow. The third date had been unexpected – a day at Troy's house that consisted mainly of making grilled cheese and making out. It was a big step to go from having a kiss-less date to a date with French kissing and under-the-shirt action, but somehow it just seemed right with Troy.

The real problems had come around the sixth or so date, when Gabriella and Troy had both ended up shirtless on her bed, with his hands on her chest and hers in his pants. Troy had stopped them, to Gabriella's shock, reminding her with obvious difficulty that she had wanted to take it slow. And then she had to remind him the time after that.

Gabriella knew Troy wasn't going to push her… but that didn't stop the sexual tension from rising to an all-time high each time they saw each other.

But then, Gabriella kind of liked it. There was a sense of adventure, and at the same time security, that she had around Troy. And it was the best feeling in the world.

It was weird, because the way everyone at West High talked about Troy, it was like he was a monster. They said he was cold, emotionless, and virtually heartless. From what she had heard, he was a ruthless fighter that cared about no one – not even his friends or teammates. And although Gabriella knew that at least some of it had to be the truth (I mean, Troy had broken Vincent's nose, for Christ's sake), she just couldn't picture it. That wasn't the Troy she knew at all.

Troy treated her special, touching her as if she were valuable and precious and something that he could never hurt. He wasn't rough, he didn't put himself first. In that sense, Troy Bolton was the perfect guy. Troy valued her, didn't take her for granted, the way everyone else seemed to sometimes.

Of course, there was a downfall. Troy was just as careful with his words around her as he was with his hands. Although she felt as if he knew everything about her, half of the things Gabriella knew about him she had been told by other people. And the vast majority of his life that was just a gray abyss of mystery to her. Then every now and again when he'd open up, Troy was always hesitant. And careful. As if he didn't want to say something she didn't like. He wasn't like that anytime else – only when talking about his past.

Gabriella wondered if it was because he thought she'd get angry because he was from East High and stuff.

"Well, it's slow compared to our first date," Troy commented, leaning even more against her. Gabriella sighed, welcoming the contact. He released one of her hands, running his hand up her arm before settling it gently at the back of her neck.

Letting her head lean back into Troy's hand, Gabriella agreed, "True." Glancing at her watch, she realized that eight minutes had already passed. Regretfully, she said, "Troy, I have to go."

"I don't want you to go," he told her matter-of-factly. Gabriella sighed, knowing Troy was accustomed to getting what he wanted. More gently, he added, "Stay, Gabi. Just for a little bit longer."

She hesitated. It was certainly very appealing… but, no. She knew that Taylor would already be wondering where she was. So Gabriella suggested, "Come over tomorrow at around eleven in the morning. How's that? No one will be home."

Troy pulled away slightly, frowning down at her sternly before asking, "Why not? Your mother just came home."

Gabriella shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. She knew that he didn't like how she was left alone so often. Looking down and shrugging, trying to act like she didn't care, she said, "There's some sort of thing at Mrs. Finkle's house. And there's a basketball pick-up game every Monday morning. I have no interest in going to either."

Troy was definitely angry, but after seeing the pleading look Gabriella gave him, he just pulled her into a hug and told her, "I'll be there."

"Okay," Gabriella replied, her voice muffled due to the fact that her face was resting against his chest.

------

Gabriella hated awkward situations.

Gabriella hated being somewhere when all she wanted was to be someplace else.

Gabriella hated when her mother tried to have a heart-to-heart with her.

And on that fateful Tuesday morning, on August 11, to be exact, Gabriella was experiencing all three at the same time. Oh, yes, the day was definitely off to a wonderful start.

Focusing on the cup of coffee sitting in front of her, Gabriella fought the urge to look up at the clock, which she had been doing habitually every thirty seconds or so for the past ten minutes. Instead, she settled for glancing to her left, where Coach Montez was sitting sipping at a tall glass of orange juice. The silence was an awkward one, as was the conversation.

"So," Coach Montez asked casually, "what did you do this weekend?"

If Gabriella and her mother had one of those open, friendly mother-daughter relationships in which the daughter could always rely on her mother, and said mother would always be ready to give advice, Gabriella probably would've told Coach Montez something about how she and Troy had spent all of Saturday texting each other. It had lasted all night, with Gabriella wishing she could see him, a wish that wasn't possible because Gabriella was with Taylor, Colette, and Emily. Then she would've revealed that on Sunday she and Troy had eaten lunch at the exact same place Gabriella and her mother were sitting at that moment.

But Gabriella and Coach Montez didn't have a relationship even remotely like that, so instead Gabriella said, "Well, Taylor, Colette, Emily and I spent Saturday shopping and then we all went to Tay's for a sleepover. Then I just came home and relaxed a bit before work."

"That sounds nice," Coach Montez said, smiling. Gabriella knew her mother was a bit strange when it came to her and Vincent, mostly because she stereotyped them. Vincent was a good basketball player – Coach Montez expected him to be a popular jock. Gabriella was smart, so she was expected to be on the Scholastic Decathlon team, take the hardest classes, and get the best grades. And yet Vincent was taking average – if not below average – classes. Gabriella supposed Coach Montez was just trying to let her children know that she accepted their differences, but it didn't stop Gabriella from feeling awkward about it.

Nodding absent-mindedly, Gabriella let an awkward silence settle in. Her thoughts turned to Troy, which they seemed to do whenever she wasn't with him. She wondered if he thought about her all the time, if he missed her as much as she missed him.

He was due to come over soon – Vincent was out, per usual, at a basketball pick-up game, and Gabriella knew her mother was planning on going over to Mrs. Finkle's house for some sort of social get together. Before, Gabriella would have probably felt a bit bitter or sad, although she wouldn't have been surprised. Now, though, she was itching for her mother to leave, because she'd much rather see Troy.

Just then, a loud back was heard.

"What was that?" Coach Montez asked, alarmed.

Gabriella thought fast, rolling her eyes and saying, "Oh, it must be that new shampoo that Vincent has – it's supposed to suction to the shower wall, but it just falls off every day or so. It's_ so_ annoying."

"Oh," Coach Montez said, apparently buying the lie.

Gabriella watched as her mother took another gulp of orange juice and slowly set her glass back down. Counting to ten, she waiting impatiently before finishing off her coffee, standing up, and saying, "Well, I'm going to go upstairs and call Tay – I think she might come over, is that okay?"

"Oh, sure, honey," Coach Montez said, smiling widely. "That's wonderful. I'll leave money so that you two can order pizza for lunch if you want to."

"Cool, are you leaving now?" Gabriella asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Coach Montez glanced at the clock, considering the time before saying, "I think I'll be leaving in about five minutes – I'll call up to you so you'll know."

"Okay, thanks, Mom."

And with that, Gabriella put her coffee mug in the sink and made her way upstairs, careful to go slow enough that she wouldn't seem too anxious. The problem was that she _was_ anxious, because the sound she had just heard wasn't Vincent's shampoo; it was the sound of someone falling as they tried to climb up onto her balcony. The only person that would possibly try to climb into her room through her balcony was Troy. And Troy didn't fall, at least not like that. Not unless something was wrong.

Gabriella's door was closed, she noticed, despite the fact that she had left it open. It was Troy, she was certain of that now. Not wasting another moment, Gabriella opened her door.

She let out a gasp, not at all expecting to see what she saw.

Troy was looking rather the worse for wear. He was dressed in a tee shirt and basketball shorts, both of which were covered in grass and dirt stains, though he wasn't sweaty. Gabriella assumed he hadn't actually got around to playing, due to the spilt lip he was supporting, not to mention his scuffed up hair.

Hearing her, Troy's eyes snapped up from Gabriella's blue handheld mirror he was holding as he gently examined his lip with his right hand. Wincing, Troy gave her an apologetic look and said, "Sorry, I didn't know where else to go – my parents would be beyond pissed if I came home like this. You weren't even supposed to see me this bad. I was going to clean before you came up. Your mom's still here, right? I can leave..."

He trailed off. Gabriella hastily locked the door behind her before saying as she walked towards him, "She'll be gone in a few minutes. Just be quiet until she does and I'll get you cleaned up." After promising this, she eyed him before instructing, "Sit in my desk chair and take off your shirt, okay?"

Troy grinned, and Gabriella knew he probably had twenty or so comebacks to that – most of them being sexual innuendos – but seeing the look on his girlfriend's face, Troy hastily stopped smiling and followed her directions without a word of complaint, placing the mirror on the desk next to him and then tossing Gabriella his shirt…

…To reveal an already bruising stomach.

"Oh my God, Troy," Gabriella breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from his stomach. He must've been punched several times, from the black and purple that was beginning to spread. Troy stood their awkwardly for a moment, eyeing her carefully and gauging her reaction. "What happened?"

Shrugging and trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal, although Gabriella could here the seriousness in his voice, Troy said, "Your brother – with the rest of the basketball team behind him."

Biting her lip, Gabriella whispered softly, "Oh, Troy…"

"Vincent came off worse," Troy said dryly. He wiped some of the blood off of his lip before looking her straight in the eye and adding sincerely, "Sorry about that, by the way. I know the brother kind of overrules the boyfriend. Family loyalty and all that."

Gabriella didn't reply, mostly because she wasn't quite sure if he was right or not.

Luckily, she was saved from answering by her mother calling up, "Gabs, I'm leaving now, alright? I'll call you once I have an idea of when I'll be home!"

"Okay, Mom, love you," Gabriella called back, not taking her eyes off of Troy. She vaguely heard her mother respond and then a door slam. She and Troy both waited for a minute or so, waiting until the sound of the engine Coach Montez's car had faded away before speaking.

Gabriella was the one who broke the silence first. She said, "Sit down, alright? I'm going to go and get a wet washcloth to clean your lip. I'm not really sure what else to do, honestly."

"You don't need to do anything," Troy said firmly, blocking her path to the door. "I'll be fine, Gabi."

He tried to wrap his arms around her, but Gabriella slipped away, pushing past him after ordering, "Just sit down in the damn chair, Troy."

She didn't wait to see if he did, but thirty seconds later when she returned from the bathroom with a wet washcloth, he was in her desk chair, his cell phone to his ear as he spoke. Looking up at her, Troy's apathetic expression immediately turned soft. He smiled softly at her, cutting off whoever was on the other line by saying, "Yeah, whatever. I'll be there."

Without another word, Troy hung up, tossing his phone onto Gabriella's bed before eye the washcloth and saying, "I don't suppose there's any way to convince you I'm fine?"

"Nope," Gabriella told him, kneeling down so that she could inspect his bruises before cleaning his bloody lip.

Troy smirked, but his face turned serious a couple of minutes later as he leaned back. He winced in pain as she pressed down gently on one of the lighter bruises and whispered, "Thanks for this."

"Don't mention it – helping clean up you beats helping clean up Vincent any day," she said jokingly, cracking a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. But Troy wasn't finished. He looked down at her, leaning forward and causing Gabriella to look up into his electric blue eyes.

"I don't have any siblings, so I've never really experienced the family loyalty thing," he said carefully, "but, just so you know, you'd beat my friends any day." His hand reached out, cupping her face as his thumb caressed her cheek. Gabriella just knelt there, frozen in shock, as he added softly, "To be completely honest, you're the best part of my day."

Gabriella's breath hitched at hearing the feeling in his voice. They stayed like that for a moment, Troy sitting on the chair looking down at Gabriella, who was kneeling at his feet. Her hands were still tracing the bruises on his stomach, and she suddenly realized how sexual their position was. Starting to move her hands upwards to Troy's mouth, and standing up as she did so, Gabriella asked jokingly, "Stealing lines from songs now?"

Raising an eyebrow, Troy asked, "What song?"

Shaking her head, Gabriella said, "With You by Chris Brown. It's a good song." Sighing, she added reproachfully, "You need to listen to better music, Troy Bolton."

"I do listen to good music," Troy protested. "DMB, Journey, Elton John, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – _Fuck_, that_ hurts_!"

"Never heard of that band before," Gabriella commented, though she did lighten her touch as she tried to clean the blood away from his ugly-looking lip. Troy glared. Rolling her eyes, she pulled her hands away, crossing her arms and stating, "Well, this is your own fault, and I'm doing the best I can here – I'm not _trying_ to hurt you."

Taking a deep breath, Troy's voice softened as he said, "I know, sorry – but damn, Gabi, it _hurts_."

"I know… well, actually, I don't. I don't get into situations like this. How_ did_ this happen, anyways? Did they all just target you?"

"No."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows at his short answer, persisting, "Well, then did everyone else come off as bad as you?"

"Worse," he told her, smirking sardonically. Gabriella gave him a look, and Troy slumped slightly, looking down before muttering, "We were outnumbered. It was Vincent and the entire Varsity team against Jason, Chad, and I."

The blood drained from her face. Gabriella could feel it.

"What?" she asked in disbelief. Blind fury raged through her, all of it directed at Vincent and his friends. And they called East High low. How dare he…

Troy, catching the angry look in her eyes, said, "Gabi, it's fine, okay? We didn't do too bad against them, anyways."

"_Not too bad_?" Gabriella repeated. "Troy, you're _lucky_. What was it, ten against three?"

"Some of them weren't that good."

Gabriella sighed, rolling her eyes and saying, "You're such a guy."

"You know it," Troy replied, smirking. Gabriella finished cleaning the blood away. Putting down the washcloth, she said, "There are some clothes on the top shelf in the closet."

Over the three weeks they had been dating, Gabriella had carefully collected Vincent's goodwill shirts and shorts and pants, putting them up high on a shelf in her closet for Troy to change into whenever he came from playing basketball. They wanted to spend as much time as they could together, and so most of the time Troy would just take a shower if he had to and change into whatever Gabriella had. Then Gabriella would sneak his clothes into the washer and dryer when she was doing laundry she was positive neither her mother nor her brother would see. It was a good system, if you think about it. Of course, it did mean that Troy's wardrobe was divided between his house and Gabriella's house.

After taking a five minute shower and changing into an Abercrombie tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Troy was lying on Gabriella's bed on his back with her curled up next to him. He smiled down at her, admiring everything about her. Then he tensed, his relaxing nature disappearing, as she spoke cautiously.

Gabriella asked, "Why do you fight them?"

Troy stiffened, saying shortly, "I fight Vincent because I have a problem with the way he treats people and his attitude. I don't have a problem with any of his friends, except for the fact that they attack me whenever Vincent does."

"Okay."

Troy was surprised. Gabriella didn't seem angry or accusing – she just accepted it and took the situation for what it was. It was impressive, really, that Troy didn't bother her after years of listening to Vincent talk trash about him. Propping himself up with one arm so that he could look down at her easily, Troy asked, "Does that mean I get to ask you a question now?"

Shrugging, Gabriella replied, "Sure."

She could tell by the look on his face and his voice that Troy already had a question in mind. Still, he hesitated before asking slowly, "Why are you always surprised?"

"What, you mean when you sneak up on me?" she shrugged again. "I just get scared easily – seriously, I can't even watch horror movies." Smiling and laughing slightly, she added "Pathetic, I know."

Troy didn't laugh, or even smile. He just stared into her eyes as he asked seriously, "No, I mean, more general than that. Just in life, you know? Sunday, for instance, when you were surprised when I brought over lunch for you, or during our second date when I set up the picnic. You acted like it was a way bigger deal than it was. It's like," he faltered for a moment, "like you don't expect people to care enough about you to do something nice – like you think you don't deserve it."

"No, I don't," Gabriella said, furrowing her brow in confusion.

Troy sighed, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers and focusing on that as he told her gently, "You do. Even when we were first friends you made it clear that you didn't understand why I would ever like you, or even tolerate you except for the purpose of getting at Vincent. And then when we slept together, you just assumed I wouldn't want anything more to do with you."

Gabriella bit her lip, and Troy felt her start playing with the hem of his shirt. He shivered slightly at the feeling of her hand brushing against the waistband of the sweatpants, but pushed his erotic feelings away. He knew it wasn't the right time. Luckily, she didn't notice, and just continued fiddling with the bottom of his shirt before saying in a faraway voice, "Insecurity issues, I guess. I've always been a bit like that – although it's escalated over the years. One of the perks of having Vincent Montez as your older brother."

She laughed sourly, but Troy remained silent. Gabriella sighed before continuing, "Vincent and my mom are both really intense about basketball, you know? And they're both big shots when it comes to West High people, because basketball's life and all that. It just kind of left me in the dark, since everyone thinks they're special and I'm just not."

Just one look at Gabriella's forlorn face was all it took for Troy's hatred for Coach Montez and Vincent Montez to double. He had always despised Vincent for his lack of sportsmanship, and Coach Montez for letting her son do whatever the hell he wanted. But doing what they did to his Gabi – that was worse than any other crime he could think of, because Troy could tell. He could tell that she truly believed what she was saying. She wasn't crying or acting out in anger, but Troy could tell by the way she talked about it. He knew from her matter-of-fact tone of voice that it was just common fact that she had less worth than them.

And seeing Gabriella believe that made something in his chest hurt. A lot.

"You are special, though. You're more special than you'll ever know, Gabi, and if they don't see it it's their loss. You deserve the best," he leaned down to kiss her and murmured meaningfully, "You deserve everything."

Gabriella smiled softly, shifting them so that instead of lying next to him she was lying on top of him. Slipping her hands under his shirt, she told him seductively, "You're the one with the hurt lip. Let _me_ kiss _you_."

And then she leaned down, attaching her lips to his neck.

Troy knew that was Gabriella's way of telling him that she didn't believe him.

------

**Please read and review, I really need the encouragement more than ever. Oh, and a little fun fact: the shampoo thing is a true story. My brother got Axe shampoo that was supposed to suction to the shower wall, but it would always fall down. Except in our case it would fall in the middle of the night and wake me up. I wouldn't let him get it again.**


	13. Drive Me Crazy

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, like Vincent. Also, Edward Cullen and the _Twilight _books belong to Stephenie Meyer. I _wish_ I was talented enough to write something of that magnitude.

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**Title:** Emotions Unaccounted For

**Author: **Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes

**Summery:** He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella. **Attention, this is not actually the summary anymore. I just forget what the new one is and am too lazy to find it. Besides, I figure that if you're reading this you have an idea of what it's about.**

**Author's Note: **It's at the end of the chapter…

**Chapter 12: Drive Me Crazy**

_We're both looking for something  
We've been afraid to find  
It's easier to be broken  
It's easier to hide _

_Looking at you, holding my breath,  
For once in my life, I'm scared to death,  
I'm taking a chance, letting you inside._

- _First Time, Lifehouse_

It was not a good day, and although Troy had decided this the day before, when Sharpay had called him begging for him to go out to breakfast with her and Zeke, he couldn't help but think it over and over again. 

Glancing out the window, not trying to conceal his boredom, Troy forced himself to listen to Sharpay, if only so that he could be at least a bit preoccupied. He_ needed _to be preoccupied. If Troy wasn't preoccupied, he was all too sure that his thoughts would turn to things they shouldn't turn to around Sharpay Evans. Namely, Gabriella and how he was pretty sure he'd burst the next time he got within eyesight of her. 

Troy Bolton had never been one of those sex-crazed teenagers before Gabriella. To be honest, his first two times hadn't exactly been ringing endorsements. But this, this was just damn unfair – one night with her and suddenly he was some sort of freakish sex addict.

It was impossible for his thoughts not to turn to images they shouldn't be on when all he had to preoccupy him was a day that promised to be boring from start to end. It had been three weeks (well, three weeks and one day, to be exact). Troy knew he should've been able to survive three measly weeks without having his thoughts revolve around sex. He wasn't that type of guy – or maybe he was, because there was no other explanation that accurately explained why Troy Bolton was day dreaming about the gorgeous body of his secret girlfriend as he sat across from one of his closest friends. The only friend that he had that might possibly figure out why he was acting so different. It was improbable, but certainly possible.

He had to pay attention. He had to stay focused. Troy couldn't risk letting his secret slip to Sharpay just because of some fantasies.

But then the topic of conversation turned to Zeke, and Troy started to wonder if getting a hard on while thinking about Gabriella would be better than the torture he was about to suffer.

"Seriously, Troy," Sharpay said as she eyed him carefully and idly stirred her Diet Coke with her straw. "I'm getting mixed signals here. I thought you liked Zeke, but then you act all Troy-Bolton-ish towards him and it's like he's Chad or Jason."

"In case you haven't noticed, Shar," Troy said disinterestedly, "I _am_ Troy Bolton. So forgive me if I actually want to act like him."

"You know what I mean Troy," she told him sternly. "I really like Zeke. Would it kill you to show him your nice side?"

"Nice side?" Troy asked in his typical cavalier tone.

Sharpay shrugged before elaborating, "Well, not really nice, I suppose. But the side that's less fuck-you and more I-could-take-over-the-world-but-I-don't because-I-have-a-minimal-amount-of-morals. You know, the side you use with me."

Troy eyed her carefully. The truth was, he wasn't really sure how he felt about Zeke Baylor. He was a good guy, sure, and probably exactly what Sharpay needed. He kept her grounded. But Sharpay was like Troy's sister in a weird way, he wanted her to have the best. He wanted her to have someone that would always be there to protect her. And Zeke Baylor didn't have a backbone. He wouldn't stand up for her, or protect her. 

One side of him thought this was sort of a good thing, because protecting Sharpay was Troy's job. 

On the other hand, Troy could never respect a guy that didn't stand up for what he believed in, just like he couldn't ever respect a person like Chad, who fought just for the heck of it.

But then Sharpay was staring at him. And she was being serious, saying softly, "I _really_ like him, Troy. And I never ask you for anything."

Maybe it was the angle he was at in the Bickford's booth he was slumped down in, or maybe it was the strong coffee he was drinking, which had all the cream he had been given in it and was still not light enough for his taste. Either way, the thought crossed Troy's mind that if this was him with Gabriella, he would want Sharpay to be nice, too.

So he nodded and said, "I'll give it a shot." Seeing her face light up, he added, "No guarantees, though."

"Sure, Troy," Sharpay said, rolling her eyes, "whatever you-"

She stopped abruptly, grinning widely as she looked past Troy, waving her hand daintily. He didn't bother to look to see who it was, because he already knew. 

Zeke Baylor was wearing a polo coupled with a pair of kakis, an outfit that Troy knew Sharpay must've picked out for him. Troy glanced down at his clothes, smiling wryly at his graphic tee shirt, sandals, and jeans. Before Sharpay showed up, Zeke's normal attire when going to Bickford's was a muscle tee and basketball shorts. The before-and-after mental picture that Troy was forming was rather comical. 

Sliding into the booth next to Sharpay, Zeke gave her a quick kiss (making Sharpay giggle slightly) before looking across the table at Troy, who was still eyeing him condescendingly. His wide smile fading, Zeke plastered a more forced version of it onto his face before saying, "Hey, Troy, what's up?"

Seeing their waitress approaching, Troy chose not to respond, instead turning to face said waitress and tell her, "I need another cup of coffee."

The meaning was clear: he wasn't there of his own volition.

"Of course!" she said cheerfully, smiling widely and apparently missing his underlying message. She had a southern accent and was way too perky to be an Albuquerque native. Troy assumed she was a student from the University of Albuquerque. "Are you ready to order?"

Sharpay glanced at Zeke, asking, "Do you need a couple of minutes, or do you know what you want?"

"I'm good," Zeke said to her, then turning to the waitress and telling her, "Two eggs, over easy, with sausage, home fries, and toast, please."

"Hmm," Sharpay frowned in thought before saying, "An omelet - only egg whites - with ham and cheese, a low fat toasted blueberry muffin, bacon, and home fries, s'il vous plait."

Troy inwardly rolled his eyes – Sharpay had this habit of talking in French sometimes. Most people thought it was intentional, but Troy knew it actually wasn't, despite the fact that it _was_ something Sharpay would do. However, Troy knew Sharpay, and that was why he knew that it was just a bad habit she had picked up while spending a month in France during the summer before.

The waitress smiled, turning to Troy and asking, "And you?"

"Belgium waffles with strawberries and whipped cream on top… and the syrup on the side," Troy told her, handing her the three menus.

The silence that followed was awkward. 

Silences weren't awkward with Gabriella, Troy thought bitterly as he listened absentmindedly to Sharpay and Zeke, who had started some sort of conversation about frivolous things he had no interest in. So he stared into space, his mind drifting to nothing in particular. By the time the waitress had come to give him his cup of coffee, Troy was safely zoned out, his daydreams turning on Gabriella, this time focusing not on her sexiness but her incredible cuteness and sweetness… 

Great, so now when Troy wasn't a sex addict/pervert, he was a sap. Just perfect.

Time must've passed although he didn't realize it, because then the waitress was placing a plate in front of him. He looked up to see Sharpay and Zeke also had their plates. Sharpay was telling Zeke all about some sort of trip her family was taking that had to do with her father's work. Troy knew all about it – it was to Kiawah Island, and Sharpay's father, Vance Evans, had invited him personally, though of course Sharpay had already beaten him to it. Vance always seemed to like Troy – Sharpay said it was because they were a lot alike, but Troy suspected Vance didn't care about their compatibility so much as about the fact that Troy was a potential match for Sharpay.

It was a good explanation as to why Mr. Evans always loved inviting Troy on whatever trips they went on. Sometimes Troy went, and sometimes he didn't. The trips almost always included being dragged to the mall with Sharpay, golfing with Mr. Evans and his work associates, and sleeping in until eleven. The trips were nice, and it wasn't like being with the Evans family was awkward... it was just a bit weird because Mr. Evans seemed to like Troy better than Ryan. Troy was like the son Mr. Evans always wanted. 

Honestly, Troy liked Mr. Evans better than his own father most days. But he didn't like to intrude too often, because Ryan Evans wasn't that bad of a guy, and he was also a guy that cared what his father thought. Troy didn't strive for Coach Bolton's attention and acceptance, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn't like Ryan Evans destroying his chances. So, as much as Troy wanted to screw Ryan and Coach Bolton, he kept a level head and said to himself that Ryan Evans didn't deserve it. 

This time, Troy was torn – hang with Ryan and Vance while Sharpay and Zeke had wild sex on every surface of their hotel room, or let Ryan and Vance have their own bonding time? There was no win-win situation, because then if he didn't go Ryan would be alone when Vance was busy, and Sharpay and Zeke still hadn't surfaced. There was no way Raleigh could go, because she was going to be in Cape Cod with her family at that time.

Suppressing a sigh, Troy's thoughts returned to the present. His focus once again on his plate, Troy took his serving of syrup and put it on Sharpay's plate. She smiled brightly at him and started scooping her home fries onto his plate as she said to Zeke, "Yeah, the hotel's really nice – and Daddy has no problem with you coming along."

Troy scoffed, causing Zeke's eyes, which had previously been focused with obvious confusion on Sharpay and Troy's actions regarding their food "trading", snapped up in poorly disguised shock. Ignoring the surprise Zeke was openly displaying at seeing Troy showing some semblance of emotion, Sharpay defended herself, "Well, he won't have any problem… he already knows I'm bringing _someone_. Just not, you know, my boyfriend."

"And of course you'll be sleeping in separate rooms," Troy added dryly, and it took Zeke a moment to realize he was joking.

Sharpay scowled and shot back maliciously, "Yes, just like you during Spring Break."

Troy scowled right back at her, looking a _lot_ more intimidating.

"Too soon?" Sharpay asked worriedly, bighting her lip.

"Too soon," Troy agreed coolly. She giggled. Pointedly ignoring her, he picked up his fork and knife. As he started cutting up his waffles, Troy forced himself not to look up at Sharpay, who he could feel staring at him expectantly. 

Troy finished cutting.

_Remember Gabi,_ he thought, _someday you'll want Sharpay to be nice to her, like she wants you to be nice to Zeke._

With this thought running through his mind, Troy forced himself to look up. He stared straight at Zeke, and asking, "Do you like Dave Matthews?"

Zeke faltered, glancing nervously at Sharpay, as if he wasn't quite sure whether Troy was talking to him or not. Seeing Sharpay's encouraging smile, he looked back to Troy, eyeing him and trying to discern if it was some sort of trick question, or a genuine one. Finally, after a bit of silence, Zeke said cautiously, "Yeah, they're cool."

"You should come with Shar, Ryan, and me then. It would be fun. They have damn good seats, too," Troy said, looking back down and finishing cutting up his waffles as he did so. Finishing cutting them up, Troy used his fork to spear a cut up piece of his waffles along with a suitable amount of cut up strawberries. After ensuring there was enough whipped cream, Troy inserted the food into his mouth, looking up only then. As he chewed and swallowed, he watching the flabbergasted look on Zeke's face slowly fade.

Troy shrugged and said, "You don't have to…" he trailed off, taking another bite,

Coming to his senses and realizing the opportunity he was receiving, Zeke said quickly, "Oh, no, that would be awesome, Troy – beyond awesome. I'd love to come!"

Sharpay was smiling radiantly, and although Troy didn't say another word to Zeke throughout the meal, that small amount of dialogue was enough to ensure she had a bounce in her step for the rest of her day. Maybe, she thought, it was going to be okay. Maybe it would work out.

Maybe.

------

They were on the way out of Bickford's when Troy got the call. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. Quickly slipping his hand into his pocket to silence it, Troy turned to Zeke and Sharpay and said, "Hey, I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll meet you guys over at your house, Shar."

"Sure, we'll get everything set up. Is just nine holes okay? I'm not really in the mood for a full round of golf," Sharpay replied as she reapplied her lip gloss and rubbed her lips together.

Troy nodded before hastily turning the corner to the bathroom. As soon as he was around the corner, he took out his phone and flipping it open just in time. Knowing who it must be, but wanting to be safe, he said, "Yeah?"

"Hey, Superstar."

Gabriella's voice was peppy and energetic, yet as soon as Troy heard it he swore his entire body just relaxed. All the stress melted away, and he was able to smile as he walked into the one-stall men's bathroom. Shutting the door and locking it, he said, "Hey what's up?"

"I'm totally pumped – later today I'm going to the mall and then there's this party thing that Arcadia Lee is having. She's kind of a bitch, but she's nice to me so that's not quite as bad. Anyways, Arcadia wants me to come and Vincent's all mad because she doesn't want him there," Gabriella explained.

Troy chuckled. He loved how she talked – her borderline run-on sentences and explanations that always led her off-track would probably be annoying if it was anyone else, but they just made Gabriella cuter. He leaned against the bathroom wall, asking leisurely but with true interest, "What kind of party is it?"

"Well," she told him thoughtfully, "it's exclusive, because, well, she only does exclusive. And it's a pool party, probably with dancing and definitely with alcohol. That's not to say she's a drunkard or anything, it's just because this is most-popular-girl-at-school Arcadia who is actually not that bad to hang out with because she loves to write and talks with me about the sexiness of Edward Cullen–"

"Wait a second," Troy interrupted, now very tense, "who the hell is Edward Cullen and why do you think he's sexy?"

"Lay off, over-protective boyfriend of mine. Edward Cullen is a fictional character. Haven't you read the _Twilight_ books? Well, no, you haven't, because you're not gay or a girl, but whatever. Anyways, Edward is _totally _sexy – don't worry, though, the only reason he's sexier than you is because he's a vampire and vampires are perfect. If you were a vampire, you'd definitely beat Edward," Gabriella explained.

"A vampire," Troy said flatly. Then, letting his amusement get the better of him, he added, "You spend your time talking to a girl you say acts like a bitch about how sexy a fictional vampire is."

"Yep," was the cheerful reply.

Troy shook his head, saying helplessly, "My girlfriend is crazy, great."

"I take offense at that comment," Gabriella informed him, huffing as she added, "And to think I actually called to ask you how your morning was. But do you appreciate the gesture? No, you call me crazy. Some boyfriend you are."

"I'm sorry, Gabi," Troy amended, then added with a definate amount of sarcasm, "my morning is going wonderfully and it was incredibly kind of you to ask."

"Now you ask how mine was."

Troy sighed heavily before asking, "How was your morning, my darling?"

"First off, it was fine and secondly, do _not _call me darling ever again," Gabriella said sternly.

Laughing, Troy said, "I'll remember that. Have I fulfilled my pleasantries duties for this phone call?"

Gabriella pretended to think about it before deciding, "I guess so."

"Good, so are you free now?"

"Yeah, I'm home alone. I still have a few hours before mall time."

"Do you mind if I come over?" Troy asked hopefully.

He could practically see her shrug as Gabriella replied, "Sure, how long until you get here?"

"Ten minutes maybe," Troy told her.

They said their goodbyes, and Troy hung up. He walked out of the bathroom and headed towards his car. Only after he got in did Troy call up Sharpay.

"God, Troy, where _are _you?" she asked, not even bothering with formalities.

Pulling out of his parking spot, Troy said, "I'm going to have to bail, Shar. You and Zeke have fun."

He could hear Sharpay's disappointment as she said, "Oh, okay, why?"

"You don't need to know."

Narrowing her eyes, she informed him, "You know, if you hadn't done what you did at brunch, I _so_ would be on your case."

"Yeah, I know. Just go and have fun – and don't have sex on the golf course."

"No promises," Sharpay told him devilishly before hanging up.

Troy sighed and hung up as well. A few minutes later he pulled up on the curb around the corner from Gabriella's house. Getting out and making sure to lock his car, he made his way to his girlfriend.

They spent about an hour talking and doing very little, sneaking in kisses and make-out sessions everyone few minutes or so and always having a light conversation flowing in between the lip action. Gabriella was very careful to avoid pressing down on his bruises. At first, she was careful while kissing him as well, but Troy's actions quickly assured her that his previously split lip was just fine.

And then it was one o'clock, and Gabriella announced that she was in the mood for a sandwich. Troy agreed, and with his hand in hers, she led the way to the kitchen. He followed along behind her, despite the fact he already knew his way there.

She made her way around the kitchen with ease, and Troy sat on a barstool at the island in the middle of the kitchen, watching her with this awe he had never felt while watching anyone else. Gabriella was amazing – the way she moved, her concentration, the way her eyes strayed over to him every few moments…. His thoughts were wild, and suddenly an idea struck him.

"Let's run away," he said suddenly, staring across the kitchen at her. 

Gabriella laughed, asking, "Where to? I've always wanted to go to the Netherlands, but I'm flexible."

"I'm serious," Troy told her, a rare note of excitement in his voice as he leaned across the island counter towards her and said, "let's just take some money, get on a plane, and go somewhere. It would be fun."

"And stupid," Gabriella interjected. As she continued, she opened the fridge and took out a Coke, sliding it in Troy's direction, as well as all of the fixings she needed. "We'd run out of money pretty damned quickly, our parents would file a missing persons report, and once they found us we'd be grounded until we turned eighteen and probably wouldn't be allowed within one hundred feet of each other."

Troy gave her a look opening his Coke and taking a gulp before asking, "Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?"

Rolling her eyes, she opened a cupboard and took out a loaf of whole grain bread, tossing it on the counter before saying, "Yes, as a matter of fact. They just didn't consider it a bad thing."

"What, your Scholastic Decathlon friends?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" she asked, giving him a distinct look that said he shouldn't be messing with her. 

"Not necessarily, but it's kind of fun to not think once in a while."

"You _would_ say that," Gabriella scoffed. She had gotten a glass plate to put the bread on, which she was spreading mayonnaise over as she spoke.

"Are you trying to insinuate something, Miss Montez?"

"Merely that, when it comes to personality and social status, you err on the side of being a stereotypical dumb jock who's prime concerns regard games and parties rather than education… or anything else, for that matter," Gabriella informed Troy matter-of-factly. Turning to him, she then asked, "What kind of sandwich do you want?"

"Turkey, but I'll make it. As for your previous comments, I'll have you know that I'm an honors student, and in general parties hold no appeal to me. I realized a long time ago that Albuquerque in general has a very 'stick to the status quo' mantra, but that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy Beethoven or a John Steinbeck novel every now and then."

As he spoke, Troy stood up and walked over to Gabriella, reaching into the cupboard for two slices of white bread and 

"Beethoven, really? I've always been more of a Mozart fan myself – Beethoven's rather depressing. And, seriously, I can make your sandwich, Troy. You're a guest," Gabriella replied, taking Troy's plate and proceeding to spread the mayonnaise on the slices of bread. Narrowing his eyes, Troy took his plate back, catching Gabriella's wrist as she reached out to take the plate back.

Adamant, he told her evenly, "Gabi, I'm making it. You're a strong, opinionated woman, and the last thing I need is for you to be on my case about woman's rights and how jocks like me are trying to suppress you by keeping you in the kitchen and away from jobs we deem 'manly'." Troy steadfastly ignored her pout, releasing her hand and instead placing the sliced lettuce and tomatoes on his bread. As he did this, Troy added, "Oh, and that 'guest' stuff was the suckiest excuse on the planet, seeing as I've basically been living here every moment possible for the last few weeks. Not to mention I'm your boyfriend."

"…You don't like Beethoven, do you?"

"No, but _East of Eden _wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Troy admitted.

"That would insinuate you finished it," Gabriella said dryly, not missing a beat.

"I did – which is definitely saying something," Troy told her, and when seeing Gabriella's disdainful scoff added challengingly, "C'mon, I bet you haven't finished _every _book you've started reading."

Gabriella had to think for a second before saying, "Seventh grade, _A Wrinkle in Time_. I had to read it for school, and it was the first book that was so horrible I just couldn't finish. I still got an A on the test we had on it, though."

"You would," Troy told her, shaking his head. They had both abandoned their sandwich making now, in favor of continuing their bantering. Gabriella took a step closer to him so that her nose was just about at his mouth. 

Smirking, she agreed, "I would."

There was something about her just then – her playful nature, maybe, or the way her eyes were brighter than usual (as they always were whenever she immersed herself in a good argument; she was practically born to be a lawyer). Whether it was one of those aspects of her, or just simply how she couldn't keep her signature wide smile from spreading across her face, something about Gabriella at that moment made Troy lean in and kiss her.

It started out as a sweet, slow kiss, but as most of their kisses did, it quickly turned into anything but that. Gabriella's hands snaked up to tangle themselves in Troy's hair, and in turn his hands wrapped snugly around her waist. 

And then she was up against the sink, with his hands clutching the granite countertop on either side of her, and her hands were moving down so that they were clutching Troy's tee shirt instead. Troy eagerly entwined his tongue with hers, pressing his body up as close to Gabriella's small form as possible. Her jeans, they were so low… and that tee shirt of his that she had tied a knot in at her navel so that a triangle of her skin was revealed to him…

Gabriella pulled away then, and although Troy inwardly swore, he knew it was for the best. He wasn't going to turn into one of those guys that pressured girls just because he couldn't control his own hormones.

"We should probably stop now. Slow, remember?" Gabriella panted. Troy groaned, kissing his way softly down her neck. She moaned. Reluctantly he pulled back, lifting his head up so that their eyes met.

"Slow," he breathed. "Right."

"Yeah," Gabriella breathed, sounding like she was seriously regretting stopping their actions. Troy had already recovered, allowing one hand to draw invisible designs on her back, but other than that remaining stationary.

"Oh, and Gabi?" Troy gave her a smirk, raising an eyebrow as he asked, "Seriously, the _Netherlands_?" 

"Yes, the Netherlands," she said defensively, pulling away and crossing her arms. "It's pretty there. We could find a nice hotel with a great view, and go sightseeing, and just relax without worrying about people seeing us."

Troy smirked, a thousand different scenarios passing through his mind, none of which involved sightseeing. They had more to do with the hotel room, specifically the bed… and the shower… and about any other surface he could think of that would be in a hotel room. He could imagine them, together, like they were on that first date. It would be even better, because the mornings after Troy would order room service. He'd order everything on the menu, and they'd have breakfast in bed at noon or so. Then, when they finally ventured out of the hotel room for a romantic dinner, the other people in the hotel would smile widely at him with Gabriella, and none of them would care that it was Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez. They'd just see a boyfriend and girlfriend that were perfect for each other.

Come to think of it, the Netherlands didn't seem so bad after all.

"You have your I'm-thinking-about-having-sex-with-Gabriella look on your face."

Well _that _broke him out of his thoughts.

"What?" Troy asked, confused.

Gabriella giggled, saying, "Don't worry, you don't get it _that_ often. And it's not nearly as bad as other guys get around their girlfriends."

"I have a look?" He asked doubtfully. "I don't have a look."

"You have a look," Gabriella confirmed. "But don't worry, it's kind of cute. And very sexy."

Troy bit his lip worriedly before telling her, "Gabi, I'm not–"

"I know," she told him serenely, now tracing her own designs on his chest with her finger. He shut his eyes, loving her touch and feeling relief wash over him at her words. Leaning up she whispered, "I don't think you'll have to wait much longer, anyways."

And then she kissed him softly. He kissed back, secretly loving the tenderness between them. It lasted a minute or so, until Troy gently pulled back so that his lips hovered slightly over hers.

"We should eat; I've got to go soon," Troy murmured, still pressing his body up against hers, although he wasn't making any more advances… a fact that oddly seemed to disappoint Gabriella rather than placate her.

Shifting as close as possible to him, she bit her lip and whispered, "Why? I don't want you to go."

"I'm playing basketball with some of the guys, and at the rate we're going I'm going to have to take a cold shower before," Troy said. Gabriella couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.

Burrowing her head into his chest, she replied, "A shower sounds nice."

"Don't put any more images into my head," Troy groaned, making Gabriella giggle. 

She smirked up at him, asking teasingly, "Is the tension getting to be too much for the big, tough Troy Bolton?"

"Don't you dare make fun of me, Montez," Troy said warningly, "otherwise I'll have to give you a taste of your own medicine."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Don't temp me," Troy whispered, leaning in tantalizingly close to her ear.

Gabriella leaned in, planting a kiss on his collar bone before murmuring enticingly into his ear, "Maybe I want to tempt you."

They were both breathing heavily now, and Gabriella could feel his hands nimbly exploring her back as his mouth nibbled on her earlobe.

And then his cell phone started to vibrate.

Troy shut his eyes, praying Gabriella didn't hear it, but of course she did – he could thank her supersonic hearing for that. She pulled away, and he could see in her face that she expected him to answer. So, withhis second or soheavy sigh of the day, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open, asking, coolly, "What?"

"Sixth hole, the storage shed," Sharpay told him proudly, forsaking the pleasantries yet again.

Troy blinked before understanding. Groaning, he said, "I was joking, you idiot."

"I know, but then when you said it I started to get these ideas, you know? Some of them were very kinky."

"I'm hanging up," Troy told her sternly. "And I'm also never going golfing there again."

Gabriella blinked in shock, staring at Troy as they both heard Sharpay reply, "Whatever, you know you will. That was like a challenge, Troy. You can't just say 'don't have sex on the golf course' and then expect me to actually _not_. You're lucky – the storage shed was probably my tamest idea. It wasn't even technically _on_ the golf course."

"Is there a point to this, other than to scar me for life and make my hatred for Zeke grow to new heights?" Troy asked irritably. Sensing his annoyance, Gabriella started gently kneading his chest and shoulders in an effort to relax him. It did, but he didn't let it show in his voice.

Sharpay was quiet before whispering so that Gabriella had difficulty hearing, "Don't say that. Don't say you hate him, Troy."

Troy knew she was being serious, so he answered quietly, "Yeah."

The 'sorry' that anyone else would've said loomed between them.

As if shaking off all of her hurt, Sharpay continued in a marginally more cheerful voice, "Anyways, Daddy wants you to come over to dinner. And since you totally owe me for that comment, you're coming and putting in a good word for Zeke. Daddy doesn't like him as much as you – I swear he's stuck between wishing you were my boyfriend to wishing you were his son. It's quite irritating."

"It is," Troy agreed. He glanced worriedly at Gabriella, all too aware of her presence and now wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. She looked interested, but not mad. That was good. "I'd die if I was dating you or if I was your brother."

"Famous last words, Troy," Sharpay admonished. Gabriella tensed slightly.

Troy gently ran his hand up and down her arm, saying, "Shar, the last time your dad made a comment about us as a couple you said you'd castrate me if I ever asked you out."

"Well, yeah, I needed to let him get the picture _somehow_. I mean, you're not nearly nice enough for me."

Troy had to stifle a chuckle before telling her, "And you're not nearly nice enough for me. Bye Sharpay."

"Wait a second," Sharpay stopped him, and he could practically see her narrowing her eyes as she thought out loud, "You actually are being nice today. What the hell is up with that? Have you been enlightened or something? Because I swear I don't remember you being this... _tolerant_ before."

Knowing very well that was a conversation he'd never continue with Sharpay, especially with Gabriella listening, Troy told her coolly, "Does hanging up on you classify as being nice?"

"Ah, there's the Troy Bolton we all know but don't love," Sharpay said in a strangely perky voice, considering someone had just threatened to hang up on her. "Be here at six with kakis at the very least on. Just remember: my daddy keeps on loving you and so do college scouts."

Troy stiffened, not liking what she was insinuating. Finally he said coldly, "I actually like your father better than mine, Shar."

"Yeah," she agreed, "and I totally get why."

"Bye," Troy told her curtly and hung up. Looking down at Gabriella, he sighed and said, "That was Sharpay."

"You friend." It wasn't a question. Troy nodded. Gabriella sighed and continued, "A close friend."

"Probably my closest," Troy agreed. Then he added, "I had brunch with her and her boyfriend Zeke Baylor this morning – I don't like him much, and she wants me to."

"Were you nice to him?" Gabriella asked, staring up at him.

Troy started to nod, hesitated, and then said carefully, "Nicer than usual."

"Why?"

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he debated what to say. Finally settling on the truth, he told her seriously, "Because someday, she's going to find out about us – possibly on her own, but probably not. And when that happens, you're going to meet her, and I want her to be nice to you."

Biting her lip worriedly, Gabriella asked, "She won't like me?"

"Oh, she will," Troy assured her, "but she's stubborn, and she won't be happy that I didn't tell her. And I wouldn't put it past her to hold a grudge against you just to annoy me."

"Oh," Gabriella said awkwardly. "She sounds… interesting."

"Interesting doesn't even begin to cover it," Troy informed her wryly.

The stood there in a comfortable silence until Gabriella asked softly, "Tell me about her."

Troy frowned, not really expecting that. He hesitated before turning back to his long-forgotten sandwich. As he finished making it, he started to talk, "Sharpay's kind of hard to explain – she's nice but other times a complete bitch. She's definitely a drama queen, but there's a lot more to her on the inside, you know? Sharpay's killer at tennis and golf and yoga – but she's scary to shop with. She has this unhealthy habit of shopping for other people as well as herself, so if you ever go out shopping with her you'll probably end up with a new wardrobe."

"When did you meet her?" Gabriella asked. 

Both she and Troy had finished making their sandwiches and where now sitting in adjacent barstools, eating as Troy spoke. He shrugged and said, "I went to kindergarten with her and her twin brother Ryan – she just kind of targeted me, deciding I was going to be her new friend. She's like that. So next thing I knew I was hanging out with her and Ry and Raleigh Cross. It was pretty weird, actually. They're not actually anything like me – but that's just the way it worked out, I guess. I've hung out with the three of them basically ever since that first day of kindergarten – all of my other friends are a year older. Shar and I are definitely the closest, though. We're in a lot of the same classes, too, because we're both Honors students."

It was the most Troy had ever opened up to Gabriella, and it felt good.

So he kept on talking – about his dad and Mr. Evans and Zeke and then the entire basketball team. He talked, and she listened. And Gabriella didn't complain, because she was just happy he was finally saying something. 

------

**Shoot me if you must. I readily admit that I'm horrible with this update-regularly-and-don't-keep-the-readers-waiting-for-weeks-on-end thing. I tend to write when it hits me, and if I force myself then it turns out horrible and I hate my story and such. Anyways, right now I'm actually on a plane to Florida for vacation. Unfortunately, I just got inspired to finish this chapter as I was packing… so I probably forgot about ten things I was supposed to pack. The good news is this chapter is roughly six thousand words. I felt as if a few parts were a bit awkward, but I can't find a way to make them better so you'll have to deal. I'm really happy because this chapter proves that Troy and Gabriella have a somewhat functional relationship - it's not all ansty or whatever.**

**Anyways, I really need to thank lots of people for this chapter, even though none of them read this. It's mostly to relieve my conscience, and to let you guys know that some of this stuff does apply to real life. **

**First off, Arcadia is basically based off of one of my coolest friends Abby – yes, she writes and reads almost as much as me. We edit each other's stuff, actually – although she only edits my original stories. Anyhow, we routinely discuss the sexiness of Edward Cullen (and Kartik). It was one of those things that I added to let people know Gabi's, you know, normal. Although I must say my school doesn't really have cliques, and really everyone's popular, so although Abby and I hang out with different people, it's not quite as strange as Gabi and Arcadia hanging out. **

**Also, I just need to point out that I'm very into realistic dialogue, so Gabriella and Troy aren't going to sound like they're politicians or something. Gabriella has the bad habit me and my friend Ali have of speaking a bit too fast and in sentences that are probably classified as run-ons. Nearly all of my characters also hesitate and stutter and such. Just saying, it's not some sort of writing defect I have – it's me trying to add realism to my characters. It's how I get close to them.**

**Sorry this has been so long (and for the uncalled-for long author's note)! To remind you all of how amazing you are, the current stats are… 292 reviews (WOW I would totally be on my knees if all of you amazing reviewers were standing in front of me), an astounding 30533 hits, 4 c2s, 151 favs, and 209 alerts. I LOVE YOU GUYS! Please review, I really do love you guys more than you'll ever know, and HAPPY EASTER! I love Easter, it means lots of chocolate :). And Palm Sunday rocks because I can make those cool crosses out of the palm branches. What can I say? It doesn't take much to make me happy.**

**-Steph**


	14. A Few Highs, A Few Lows

**Okay, I redid this chapter. Long story short, when I started writing Chapter 14, I discovered something I had already written from the beginning – it was one of the parts I was looking forward to, and that was when my original plan sort of came back to me. I redid this chapter and in my opinion it is much better. You may not think so, but I had to do it for my peace of mind. It was really something I was planning (one of the reasons I started writing this story), and it would be a disappointment without it. Besides, the next chapter would be horrible if I hadn't changed this one, because I would have to change my initial idea around. It's the same up until Troy and Sharpay's conversation the morning after… the night of the party is mostly different, albeit with a similar outcome. Check it out, though, or you might be confused in the next chapter.**

**I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm not sorry I redid the chapter. I got halfway through the next chapter and it seriously sucked using the old plot.**

--

**Chapter 13: A Few Highs, A Few Lows**

_All the, small things  
True care, truth brings  
I'll take, one lift  
Your ride, best trip_

Always, I know  
You'll be at my show  
Watching, waiting,  
commiserating

Say it ain't so, I will not go,  
turn the lights off, carry me home  
Na, na...

_-_ _All the Small Things, Blink-182_

Gabriella Montez was cautious.

That was just the way it was – perhaps it was something she was born with, but more likely it had to do with the fact that in her family someone had to be the careful one, and it certainly wasn't going to be her brother, or mother, or even her father. Vincent was far too reckless, something he got from Coach Montez, and even if Gabriella's father _was_ cautious, it wouldn't really count because they hardly ever saw him.

The funny thing was, Gabriella forgot to be cautious when she was with Troy. Sure, when they had first started dating, she was – but then their relationship transformed so that instead of being the most uncertain thing in her life, it was the most stable thing. Troy was the person she was the most comfortable around. Gabriella wasn't quite she what that meant, but she liked it.

Unfortunately, that meant the night that they were planning to celebrate their one-month anniversary (it was actually three days late, but that was only because Coach Montez wasn't home that night, so they could have their date at Gabriella's house instead of, you know, the park or something – after all, picnics could only be done so often), Gabriella wasn't nervous at all. She didn't bother changing out of the sweatpants and tank top she had worn to the mall that day with her friends, and for makeup she was only wearing some modest mascara and lip gloss. In fact, the only thing she did to change her appearance was slip her brother's West High sweatshirt over her tank top because the air conditioning in her house was up too high.

Including being cold, Gabriella was also very tired. Going to the mall for the day with Taylor McKessie and Colette Rivers, only to run into Arcadia Lee and Spencer Gates while doing so, was very trying. After all, Taylor and Colette made it very clear that they held Arcadia at a very low standard. Arcadia wasn't motivated in school, wasn't in honors classes, and at time had more friends that were boys than friends that were girls. Arcadia, well, she didn't really think anything of Taylor and Colette, and perhaps that was part of the problem. The two Decathlon team girl members hated that Gabriella had the choice to leave them behind and join Arcadia.

Gabriella had no intention of doing this (and Arcadia didn't really expect her to), but that didn't stop things from getting very awkward, especially due to the fact that Arcadia could sometimes, inadvertently or advertently, be rather bitchy.

The end result was an altogether exhausting trip to the mall that had results that weren't at all worth the effort. So, really, it was understandable that when she decided to lie down on the couch to rest before Troy arrived, she fell asleep.

And that was how Troy found her, curled up on the couch and sleeping peacefully. He smiled softly at her, biting his lip subconsciously as he battled with the decision of whether to wake her up or not. He deliberated for only a moment before deciding to wait until he had set up the food – Troy wasn't a big cooker (that being the understatement of the year), so when he told Gabriella he'd handle the food, they both knew he meant that he'd order takeout.

Despite his far-less-than-satisfactory culinary skills, however, Troy hoped that Gabriella would be mildly impressed. It had taken a lot of work to order all of the food, while making sure Zeke or any of his other friends had no idea it was him. At the same time, he still wanted the discount assured to all waiters and waitresses. Then there was the matter of brining it over to Gabriella's without his parents noticing. All in all, Troy was rather proud of himself, especially since he was able to set up a fairly elegant-looking dinner without waking Gabriella up.

Once Troy was done with setting up their dinner in the dining room – complete with candles, even – he returned into the living room. He stopped in the doorway for a second, just looking at her.

He couldn't believe that it had actually been one month, that he and Gabriella Montez were actually going out, albeit in secret. It was improbable, amazing, and worth every step he had taken to get to that point.

The thought that he loved her had, of course, crossed his mind. He had considered it several times in the past month, but lately these muses had become increasingly more frequent. Troy wondered if this was a sign. The truth was, he wasn't really sure what love was – did he _want_ to love Gabriella Montez? That was up for debate. Did he _actually_ love her? Well, that was up for debate, also. Troy supposed he did love her, or was at least awfully close to it. There was no way he would ever tell her that, though. Gabriella wanted to take it slow, and confessing his undying love for her wasn't exactly slow, especially since he wasn't even sure if it was love he was feeling or something else entirely.

Gabriella awoke to Troy sitting on the edge of the couch and leaning over her. He smiled softly and gently stroked her hair. She smiled sleepily up at him and snuggled closer to his warm body, shutting her eyes again. She heard his soft chuckle, and that was what made reality set in.

Her eyes snapped fully open, alert with all traces of sleep gone. Gasping, she sat up so quickly she almost hit Troy in the head (and would've if he hadn't had such good reflexes).

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Troy! I fell asleep – it was by accident, I–"

Troy cut her off with a soft kiss, and when he pulled away he told her gently, "Gabi, relax – it's fine. I got dinner set up for you, okay?"

"Really?" she asked, frowning up at him worriedly.

"Really," Troy confirmed, smiling widely at her.

Gabriella smiled back and leaned up against him, sighing softly as she said, "Today really sucked."

"What happened?"

"I went to the mall with Taylor and Colette, and we ran into Arcadia and Spencer while we where there – it didn't go well, to say the least," Gabriella told him. "Thanks for getting dinner and everything."

"No problem," Troy told her easily.

Then some of the cautiousness and insecurity she hadn't felt around Troy in at least two weeks returned. Gabriella glanced at Troy's clothes – a button-up shirt and kakis – and was acutely reminded of the fact she was still in jeans. He was freshly showered and looking incredibly sexy, neither of which she was. Feeling incredibly insecure, she said quickly, "I'll be right back, okay? Then we can eat. I just want to–"

She didn't need to say anymore, because Troy already knew. He nodded and gave her another lingering kiss before getting up and helping her up as well. Gabriella bit her lip and gave him one last look before making her way upstairs.

As soon as she was in her room, Gabriella ran to her closet and grabbed the nicest shirt she could find in the half of a second that she allotted herself to look. Pulling off her sweater and tank top, she hastily put on her alternate shirt before grabbing her mascara and lip gloss. Racing over to her full-length mirror, Gabriella gave herself a quick look before hastily putting on a coat of mascara and then moving on to her lip gloss.

Tossing both cosmetics on her bed once she was done, Gabriella glanced at the clock – two minutes had passed. She then looked back at her reflection, immediately noticing her lackluster eyes, flawed complexion, and far from luscious hair.

At that moment, Gabriella felt arms slip around her waist. She looked up in shock in the mirror to find Troy pressed up against her back, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He leaned in and murmured into her ear, "Stop. I know what you're doing – you're criticizing yourself and making up flaws you don't have, and I want you to stop."

"But you're so you, and I'm all…" Gabriella trailed off helplessly. She could feel the heat his body was radiating as he held her close to him, and his even hotter breath against her cheek. It was clouding her judgment, making her body melt into his and her hands slither up to rest atop his on her stomach. She looked into the mirror, reminded again of just how alluring Troy looked, and bit her lip to try and distract herself.

"I said stop it," Troy told her sternly. "You are beautiful and sexy Gabriella. I'd give anything to make you see what I see when I look at you, don't you know that?"

"I guess so," Gabriella muttered, eyeing herself distastefully in the full-length mirror.

Troy sighed, "Okay, you need to turn around now."

Gabriella let him take her by the shoulders and gently spin her around so that she was facing him. He was staring down at her with his lips set into a thin line. Hating that he was like this because of her own insecurities, Gabriella leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Her arm reached up to play with the hair on the back of his head as she pulled away slightly. Troy smiled and murmured against her lips, "I like this lip gloss."

The temperature in the room seemed to rise twenty degrees as Troy's hands dexterously slipped under her shirt and drew invisible designs on her stomach. It made Gabriella shiver, despite the warmth of his hands, and she felt that familiar throb in between her legs.

"It's vanilla."

"Mhmm," Troy replied, leaning in and attaching his lips to hers again.

Gabriella kissed back eagerly, letting Troy's tongue pry her lips open and entwine itself with her own tongue. They danced inside each other's mouths, in a way that was familiar and yet an entirely new experience every time they did it. She allowed one hand to gently brush across his crotch as the other tangled itself into his hair, and Troy's moan vibrated into her mouth as he started walking them towards the bed.

As soon as the back of Troy's legs hit the edge of the bed, he fell back on it. Gabriella let out a little yelp as she felt him suddenly pull her down on top of him, but then Troy leaned down and attached his lips to her neck, finding the perfect spot that made her gasp for air. He pulled back hesitantly, telling her softly, "Dinner's getting cold."

His eyes, smoky and passionate, were cutting into her, and she could feel how much he wanted her as his groin pressed into her stomach.

"Yeah, but we're just getting warmed up," Gabriella told him, smirking devilishly and starting to unbutton his shirt. It was like some sort of non-established but at the same time mutually acknowledged signal, because a second later Troy's hands snaked up Gabriella's shirt and under her bra.

"Did you practice that line?" Troy asked between kisses, giving a throaty chuckle. Gabriella moaned in response as his hands gently kneaded her, and her own hands moved down to the waistline of his jeans.

Fifteen minutes later all of Troy's clothes were scattered across the room save for his boxers, and most of Gabriella's clothes had been removed, leaving her in a bra and underwear.

She had waited so long for this – that was the only though circulating through her brain. She had missed him on top of her, she had missed Troy's hands, his lips… hell, she had missed everything about being close to him. Her hands ran through his hair, and that made her wonder if he was enjoying this as much as her… Gabriella suddenly understood why it had been so hard for him to control himself on certain occasions.

Troy's hands reached around to undo the clasp of her bra. As he yanked it off of her and threw it on the floor, his eyes met hers and he asked uncertainly, "Are you sure?"

"Very," Gabriella confirmed before crashing their lips together again.

And a few exceptions notwithstanding, they didn't speak coherently after that.

--

Gabriella awoke to Troy gently kissing her shoulder from behind. She followed her first instincts and snuggled closer to him. They were spooning on her bed under the covers, although Gabriella was sure they hadn't fallen asleep in that position. She let out a small contented sigh. Now knowing she was awake, Troy's lips left her collarbone and moved towards her ear.

"It's good to see you haven't tried to run away again," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

Gabriella smiled lazily, still half-asleep as she mumbled incoherently, "Mhmm."

Troy chuckled softly, pulling her closer to him as his hands roamed leisurely over her body. Gabriella shivered in delight, loving the feeling of Troy close to her. Why the hell had they waited, again? She didn't know how she had managed it. All she wanted to do was stay there forever – that is, until she was awake and alert enough to repeat the activities they had participated in the night before.

Gabriella whimpered in protest as she felt Troy shift away from her. Turning over onto her other side, she watched as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching around on the floor for something. Seconds later, he pulled on his boxers – it took Gabriella a second to realize this, because of the angle she was looking at him from. The boxers were wrinkled, but then again everything about him was disheveled so it sort of worked. The thought occurred to her that she was pretty lucky to have a boyfriend that looked that good on mornings after. She certainly didn't look that alluring.

She glanced around her room – the blinds were open though they let in minimal light because it was a cloudy day. Her eyes found her alarm clock, and Gabriella's eyes widened as she realized it was already ten o'clock.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked Troy, sitting up. She held the covers close to her, acutely aware of the fact that she had no clothes on.

"Not too long," Troy said in a noticeably noncommittal voice. She didn't believe him, but decided not to press the matter. He leaned back across the bed towards her, cupping her face in his hand – the one that wasn't propping him up – and giving her a long, slow kiss. Gabriella melted into him, loosing track of all time as her mouth moved in harmony with his.

All too soon she forced her lips to move away from his. She leaned her forehead against Troy's – her eyes were shut, but when she opened them Gabriella found that Troy was staring at her, a serious expression on his face. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but instead said in a voice that she realized sounded needier than she had intended, "Do you need to leave?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Troy answered softly, "Not unless you need me to."

"My mom won't be home until later – I think. And Vincent's sleeping over Spencer's or something," Gabriella said, yawning.

Troy smiled at her, saying, "What about breakfast, then?"

"Okay," Gabriella agreed. "I'll meet you down there in a minute."

Troy nodded, giving her one last kiss before heading out of her room.

Gabriella stared after him for a moment before getting out of her bed. She pulled on underwear and a bra, glancing around for something else to wear. Finally deciding on pajama shorts and an oversized tee shirt that was probably Vincent's, Gabriella pulled her hair back into a ponytail, grimacing at how horrible it looked, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Troy was already in there, standing in front of the open fridge and examining its contents. Hearing Gabriella enter, he shut the refrigerator door and looked up, explaining to her, "I don't know how to cook, well, anything – but there are eggs in here and some pancake mix."

"I think we have sausage in the freezer, too," Gabriella said. "Those would have directions, and the pancake batter might, too. Eggs, though…" she trailed off helplessly.

Troy took out the eggs, placing them on the counter and saying, "I can probably make the eggs."

"Have you tried before?" Gabriella asked warily, glancing at him as he took out the sausage package from the freezer as well.

Shrugging, Troy said, "No, but I've seen Zeke do it enough times, and my mom, too. Should be easy enough. Scrambled alright for you?"

"Sure – I can do sausage and toast," Gabriella said. She opened up a cupboard and took out a frying pan, handing it to Troy. He took it gingerly, and from the look on his face Gabriella knew that something would probably catch on fire. He looked utterly lost. Forcing herself to turn away and put her trust in him, she took out the bread.

"Gabi, last night was okay, right?" Gabriella looked up. Troy was watching her nervously, running a hand through his hair before saying, "It's just, I wasn't sure if it was the heat of the moment that made you say yes or something."

"It wasn't," Gabriella said. She then hesitated and continued, "Well, maybe it was, but I'm okay with it. Better than okay, actually."

Troy visibly let out a breath of relief, grinning and returning his attention to making the eggs as he said, "It was good sex, wasn't it?"

"Definitely," Gabriella agreed, laughing. She put four pieces of bread into the toaster and asked, "Do all people have it that good?"

"I don't think so," Troy said thoughtfully. "At least, from what my friends say. Besides, if sex was that good for everyone, people would never divorce – the makeup sex would always more than reciprocate any wrongdoings."

Gabriella nodded and said, "Good point. Besides, when I tried sex with my boyfriend it really sucked-" She froze, turning to Troy as she added, "I think that just broke a key dating rule – don't compare your boyfriend to exes." She bit her lip uncertainly. "Sorry about that."

Troy shrugged and responded, "Well, sex sucked for me before you, too…" He smiled at her. "Now we're even."

Gabriella tried to hide her smile as she nodded in agreement, secretly elated that he thought that.

They talked like that while they made the food – Gabriella was surprised at how it was so easy to converse with him, even about sex they had the night before. It wasn't awkward, it was… nice.

Ten or so minutes later, Troy and Gabriella stood back and surveyed their work. The eggs were just finishing up, and both the toast and sausage was done. Troy had poured them both orange juice (Gabriella had cringed, seeing him abandon the scrambled eggs so easily – but amazingly nothing was burned). It all looked somewhat put together, with no major mishaps along the way. Troy looked notably proud of himself, which Gabriella found comical.

"We should probably take cooking classes or something if we're going to be doing this more often," Gabriella said thoughtfully.

Troy laughed and told her, "We're going to make breakfast together every morning after sex now, just because you said that."

"Classes," Gabriella reminded him, smirking.

He frowned in thought before brightening and saying, "How's this, once we tell everyone about our relationship, I'll get Zeke to give us free lessons."

Gabriella hesitated, and Troy – realizing a second later what he had said – did as well.

The fact that their relationship was a secret that had to eventually be revealed was not often discussed, although they both thought about it separately. It wasn't that one of them was unwilling, but more the fact that_ both_ were unwilling.

After a moment, Gabriella said in a strange voice, "Okay."

Silence fell over them again, broken only when Troy told her softly, "I'm sorry."

Gabriella shook her head a bit too violently, telling him, "It's not your problem – it shouldn't be mine, either… it's just..." she trailed off, busying herself with dividing the sausage up evenly between the two plates. Once she was done, she looked up at Troy, who was waiting patiently for her to continue, and said, "I have no idea what's going to happen. We've sort of fell into this pattern, haven't we?"

"I know – I've seen it, too," Troy said, sighing unhappily. He was finished with the eggs. In Gabriella's opinion, they looked surprisingly good for someone who had never made eggs before. He turned off the burner, and Gabriella held out the plates one at a time so that Troy could put the eggs on them. "We should've been smarter about this – realized that the more time it was a secret the more we'd fall into the trap of not telling anyone."

"Well… it's only been a month." She said, trying to sound optimistic. Troy gave her a small look. "But, then again, that's a pretty long time for not telling anyone," Gabriella admitted. She watched as Troy placed the toast on their plates and then took his from her. They sat next to each other in the stools at the island, their chairs so close that their shoulders were pressed together. Neither of them minded.

That was how they ate, in a companionable silence that wasn't nearly as awkward as one might think. Every now and again Gabriella would glance towards Troy and smile, or Troy's hand would reach over and draw small, invisible designs on her thigh. They continued like that until most of their food was gone, with only a bit remaining on each plate.

Troy finished his last piece of toast, chewing slowly as he thought over their predicament. Gabriella speared the last of her scrambled eggs with her fork and tasted them just as Troy swallowed and said, "How about this – if everyone hasn't found out about us by our sixth-month anniversary, we'll tell everyone."

Gabriella frowned. Six months? Sure, they had made it one, but she had no idea if they could do five more. She thought they could – she couldn't imagine her life without Troy anymore. But whether he thought that way about her or not was an entirely different situation.

She contemplated this in silence for a minute or so before asking carefully, "Do you think we'll last that long?"

Troy didn't answer right away, and she was certain that he was trying to find a way to say no. But then he turned to her and said with mind-blowing sincerity, "Honestly, yeah."

She smiled back and, right before leaning into to kiss him, said, "Me, too."

Troy's lips eagerly reacted to hers, and his arms pulled her closer, so that they didn't part until five minutes later, when Troy reluctantly broke off their kiss, still keeping his lips near hers.

"So that's it then? Six months?" he asked breathlessly. She nodded, and he kissed her again.

Both Gabriella and Troy seemed to hear it at the same time – breaking away from the kiss in unison with identical looks of alarm on their faces as the sound of a car pulling into the Montez family's driveway met their ears.

"Oh my God," Gabriella whispered.

Troy gave her a quick kiss before replying hastily, "If you distract him for a few seconds, I can get dressed and go out through your balcony."

Gabriella nodded mutely, watching in shock as Troy ran up to her room. Moments later, she heard a car being shut off and then a car door slam. Hastily, she shoved the remainder of Troy's food into the trash and shoved the plate under the sink – she'd clean it once the danger was gone. Then she returned to her food, taking several deep breaths to calm herself.

Seconds later, Vincent came in – but by then, Troy was already climbing down the tree in Gabriella's backyard and making his way towards his car in an unbuttoned shirt. His belt was clutched in one hand, and the other held his shoes and socks. Hey, at least his pants where on.

Troy reached his car, getting in and quickly slamming the door shut. He locked the doors before letting the shock wear off. He just sat there, breathing heavily for a moment before getting his shoes and socks on. Then he turned on his car, taking one look in the direction of Gabriella's house before driving away.

It was a close call, and he knew it was because they had become too secure, too lenient.

--

The sun was beating down especially hard that day, burning Troy's skin to the point where he was somewhat worried his sunscreen wouldn't work. He considered pulling his shirt back on, but couldn't be bothered to move. Somehow, the grass was still in pristine condition, which was surprising given the weather, but then not very surprising when you considered the fact that he was lying on the lawn of Lava Springs Country Club.

Troy squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the sun and with it Sharpay's voice that was narrating some story about something or other. He didn't really care. Shifting only slightly, Troy allowed his thoughts to turn to that morning, and what had happened before Gabriella had awoken…

_Troy jolted awake at the sound of something vibrating. He shot up, momentarily startled because he wasn't in his room and wasn't wearing any clothes. He relaxed a second later when he felt someone shift at his side and move closer to him. Gabriella. He glanced around, his eyes quickly finding Gabriella's phone, which was vibrating on her bedside table that happened to be very close to Troy's head. He hastily silenced it and put it back on her bedside table. The urge to see who had called was strong, but he resisted. One look at the clock told him it was 7:12 AM. Sighing, he looked down at Gabriella's sleeping form._

_She looked beautiful, the type of beauty that was impossible to accurately put into words. Everything about her was perfect, even when she was lying in her bed sleeping after sex. Her hair was messy and she didn't have any clothes on, but still there was this glow she had to her – no, not the I-just-had-sex glow (although she had that, too), but the sparkly glow that makes people look at you. She had the type of glow that makes people smile even when they're sad. Gabriella was perfect, and Troy couldn't for the life of him understand how she couldn't see it._

_Troy leaned into her, burying his nose gently into her hair. It still smelt like vanilla – just like her skin, and her lips. She had a slight obsession with vanilla, he knew, but he didn't mind. Troy wondered, if Gabriella didn't use anything that was scented vanilla, and used something like lavender or coconut instead, if she'd still smell like vanilla. He thought so._

I love you,_ he wanted to say desperately. _I want to be with you so bad I can't even describe it.

_Troy restrained himself, but just barely and only by repeating in his head multiple times that confessing his love while Gabriella was sleeping was way too clichéd for him._

Coming back down to Earth, Troy realized Sharpay had ceased taking. He sighed, refusing to give Sharpay the satisfaction of him looking at her. Troy knew the question was coming. And sure enough, a few moments later…

"Troy, where were you last night?"

The question hung in the air as Sharpay stared penetratingly down at Troy. He remained immobile, still stretched out on his back in the grass, his eyes shut. They stayed like that for a few moments, Sharpay sitting cross-legged in the grass on her front lawn with Troy lying horizontally in front of her. He was internally battling with himself, and had a sneaking suspicion that Sharpay knew it.

That was why, when Troy opened one eye slightly and looked up at her, he decided on a variant of the truth, instead of an outright lie. He told her flatly, "De-stressing."

She had known that already, of course. Sharpay had known from the moment she had heard his voice on the phone – slightly groggy, annoyed and yet sounding strangely content. And then there was something else. Sharpay didn't quite know what it was, but it was the type of thing a best friend recognized.

And then she had seen him, and the sex eyes – coupled with his wrinkled clothes and mussed hair – cast aside any fleeting doubts she might have had in her judgment. Admittedly, however, there weren't really any doubts. Sharpay Evans was confident, sometimes to a fault.

Sharpay sighed. "Heidi, again?"

"No, Christina."

She frowned, saying confusedly, "Andrews?"

"Yeah."

"But I was hanging out with her last night at the party. She couldn't have been with you. We stayed until the morning and I took her keys because she was wasted. They're around here somewhere… I would've taken her home, but you know that's not my style."

"It wasn't Christina?" Troy asked, frowning confusedly. "Well, then it must've been some other tall girl with black hair…"

"Maybe Rebecca?"

"Maybe…" Troy mused, looking confused enough that Sharpay bought it.

"Troy," she sighed, shaking her head, "what is up with you?"

He didn't answer, just shrugged the question off and then proceeded to say bluntly, "She was good."

Sharpay shook her head again, but didn't comment. The topic changed, and neither brought it up again.

Later, though, when Sharpay had time to speculate, she wondered. This wasn't the Troy Bolton she knew. He wouldn't sleep with so many random girls like this, let alone not remember who it was.

Something was going on. Drugs, maybe? She frowned. No, he wasn't stupid like that. And he wasn't trying to look cool by lying about having sex, because firstly Troy was the epitome of cool, and secondly if he wasn't having sex, why would he have sex eyes? She considered other options (was he gay and trying to hide it?) before finally she hit the jackpot. He _was_ sleeping with a girl – and liking it. He was just lying about with whom. But why would he lie?

Sharpay could answer that one easily enough: because it was someone he wasn't supposed to be with. And that meant it was a steady relationship, and he really liked her – because if he was just in it for sex, he'd do it with someone he could be open about, and he wouldn't make it clear it was a different girl each day.

The question was: who?

It had taken her too long to find out what he was hiding, how long would it take Sharpay to answer this next question?

Only time would tell.

--

Troy Bolton categorized his friends. There were three separate "boxes", the first of which containing people he had no intention of associating with, the second of people he didn't want to waste time on but had to anyways, and the third that consisted of those people he tentatively labeled as ones he liked.

There were very few people in the third box, although the contents of this particular box shifted rapidly. For example, Troy generally was tolerant of Ryan Evans.

"Generally" being the operative word, of course.

That would be why, when Ryan called up Troy and explained that he needed to get really drunk, Troy didn't ask questions. He just asked where they should meet up – and, luckily for Ryan, Troy didn't have any problem with attending some party a U of A guy was hosting. And that was how Troy Bolton ended up at Jamie Deacon's house, sitting on the kitchen counter between Ryan and some senior girl from his school that had drunkenly followed them around the house for the better part of an hour.

"Dude, what is this stuff?" Ryan slurred, taking another swig from whatever bottle he was holding.

Troy took another sip of his beer – his first and only, seeing as it was quite clear he was the designated driver – and bent his head slightly so that he could catch the name printed on the label of the bottle Ryan was animatedly swinging around. Inwardly wincing, Troy said, "Vodka."

From the other side of Ryan, some college guy grinned wolfishly and finished his bottle that looked identical to Ryan's. He slammed it down on the counter beside him and said to Ryan and Troy, "No way! Deacon's a rich bastard, then? Kinda figured – he went to… what's the place? Athpshen?"

"Aspen," Troy corrected. "Aspen Preparatory School."

"That's what I said."

Troy sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he asked agitatedly, "Ryan, why the hell are we here?"

Ryan's smile faltered. He shook his head and grabbed Troy's bottle from out of his hand and took a gulp. Troy took that as a sign he didn't want to talk. Shaking his head, Troy told him, "I'm going to get another drink – I'll be right back. Don't move."

Like a puppy, Ryan nodded his head, his dopey grim once again plastered across his face. The guy next to him clapped him on the back and said to Troy, "We ain't going anywhere, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy," Troy said menacingly, but was secretly glad that the guy was going to keep Ryan where he was. It would've been hell to try and find Ryan through the sea of people. Because Deacon was from U of A, there were a lot more people than at a high school party – there were people from East High, West High, some of the private high schools around, and then U of A, which was a very large college. Troy assumed there were probably people from other colleges as well, but he didn't really care enough to try and figure out which ones.

Pushing his way through all of the people, Troy headed towards the door. He wasn't going to get a drink – he needed fresh air.

Unfortunately, God didn't seem eager to grant this simple request, because as soon as he opened the door a body rammed into him, and the smell of beer surrounding him was so pungent that Troy had to fight back a cough. Pushing the person off of him disgustedly, he gave a surprised jerk when he realized who it was. Jason.

Jason seemed to realize who Troy was at the exact same moment.

"Troy, my man, some party, hey?" Jason slurred, wobbling unsteadily on his legs.

Troy didn't reach out to steady him. He just surveyed his teammate objectively and said, "You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Jason said, and then promptly tripped over nothing, falling to the ground. Giggling, he amended, "Well, maybe a little – but jus-just a little." He held his index finger and thumb very close together to show just how much "a little" was, as if Troy didn't know. Troy shook his head.

"I'm going," he said flatly, and made to go back inside. He was jerked back, however, by Jason grabbing his arm.

Trying (and failing) to get up, Jason grinned widely and told him, "Wait, dude, I'll come, too! Bolton and Cross, living the good life!"

Troy cringed, prying himself away from Jason's clutches and saying, "Hey, er, I'm going to go to the bathroom – what about you meet me in the kitchen? I think I saw…. Chad in there. And Raleigh."

Jason's face fell, which wasn't really what Troy had expected. A shadow fell over Jason's face and he said coldly, though his words were still slurred, "That bitch? I don't want anything, _anything_ to do with her."

Troy blinked in shock. He had never heard Jason refer to his sister that way before – and he wasn't really sure he wanted to know why he was now. Hastily amending his words, Troy said, "I didn't meant Raleigh – I meant… Ryan. So why don't you head over and I'll meet you in the kitchen?"

"Ryan?" Jason said, "That's cool man; cool."

Troy nodded vaguely and pushed his way back into the house, leaving Jason to get up on his own. Troy had no intention of meeting Jason in the kitchen and knew that Jason would forget the plans as soon as another distraction caught his attention.

Glancing around, Troy watched all of the drunken bodies for a moment before a scene by the couch caught his eye. Frowning, he moved closer…

--

"So, are you glad you came?"

Gabriella exchanged a glance with Taylor before turning back to Arcadia and shouting over the music, "Uh, yeah… I guess." Which, of course, was codeword for 'no'. Arcadia didn't seem to notice, but Spencer Gates (who was sitting in-between Arcadia and Gabriella) rolled his eyes in Arcadia's direction and gave Gabriella a small smile.

It was only about a half hour into the party, and Gabriella knew that it would last all night. She wanted to go home, but was afraid it would be rude. Besides, she had come with Taylor, who had only come to see Gio, one of the seniors on the Scholastic Decathlon team. Taylor had confessed before to Gabriella that she liked him, but Gabriella had only just that night convinced her to do something about it. Gabriella couldn't just demand to go home then – she was Taylor's partner in crime, or whatever the female version of a wingman was called.

Arcadia was on her third drink already, making Gabriella half-heartedly wonder if she had a designated driver. Why Arcadia had sat down with them was unclear – she hated Taylor. But, then, it could've had something to do with Spencer Gates, who leaned in and whispered to Gabriella, "Sometimes I don't get why I hang out with her."

Gabriella nodded vaguely, secretly agreeing, though she would never say so out loud. Glancing around, she tried to hide her disgust. She wasn't quite what people like Arcadia and her brother saw in endless partying. It seemed pointless to her, and no way to live. She sighed, and Spencer must've heard because he turned to her and said, "I can drive you home, if you want."

It was a tempting offer. Gabriella sent a longing glance towards Taylor, who was facing Gio, not her. Gabriella wondered when he had arrived, assuming it must've been a minute before at the most. They were deep in conversation, but Gabriella knew she couldn't leave.

"No," she said, her eyes not leaving Taylor and Gio, "I'll stay."

Her stance on this wavered somewhat five minutes later, when Gio stood up and Taylor followed, giving Gabriella a big smile as she walked away. Gabriella forced a smile onto her own face, inwardly groaning. Perfect.

Gabriella felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, quickly silencing it. She glanced around, making sure no one was looking at her. She quickly slid her phone out of her pocket and snuck a glance at the text message. Reading it, she smiled and looking around, her eyes locking with Troy's for only a moment before he broke away.

She watched, her smile faltering slightly, as she saw a girl approach him, a confused look on her face. They were speaking to each other, and Gabriella tried to push away the bad feeling stirring in her stomach. Unfortunately, it only grew when Troy's hand reached out and grabbed the girl's arm. Troy glanced back at her, and then towards the doorway that Gabriella knew led to the kitchen. Troy shook his head adamantly and told the girl with him something in an urgent voice, gesturing to the direction opposite the kitchen.

Frowning, Gabriella pushed her uncertainties away. She didn't have to worry about Troy cheating on her, or something stupid like that. The girl was probably just a friend… or something. It was fine. Everything was fine.

Just to make sure, though, she opened up her phone and sent a text message back to Troy, a simple 'yes' that was unnecessary. She knew that her gaze before had been all the reply Troy had needed. Still, the text message helped. Gabriella could see Troy open his cell phone, and the small smile that graced his face as he saw it was from her. Just that simple expression made Gabriella feel better.

From across the room, Alejandro Manzano watched with wary eyes as Troy Bolton closed his cell phone and walked meaningfully towards the door.

"What do you know?" A distinctive voice asked from behind him. Alejandro turned to look at Sharpay, whose gaze was focused on the same person his gaze had been on a moment before.

Alejandro sighed. "Absolutely nothing."

Smirking, Sharpay eyes drilled into him as she asked, "Do you want to find out?"

--

"Hey," Gabriella breathed, getting into Troy's car. She had followed his text just as he had instructed – waiting five minutes before heading towards his car, which was parked around the corner from the house. As soon as she shut the door, Troy leaned over and gave her a long kiss. Smiling, Gabriella kissed him back.

She pulled away sooner than Troy had wanted, and ordered, "Drive."

Troy eyed her and asked, "When do you want to be back?"

"I can be gone for a few hours – the party just started, and I'm sure it won't be over for awhile," Gabriella said. "Your house? It's closer."

"Okay," Troy agreed, starting to drive. "My parents are out at a party, I think."

Gabriella giggled. "Parents actually do that?"

"Trust me, mine do – there's this whole group of parents that include most of my friends' parents. They trade off having parties and get drunk and dance. How weird is that?" Troy asked, laughing along with her.

"Are they all having a mid-life crisis?" Gabriella asked.

Troy shook his head, "No, there are too many of them. All of them can't be having mid-life crises at the same time – that would be too weird."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Troy pulled his car into his driveway. The lights were off, leaving the secret couple cloaked in darkness as they walked up the front steps and into the house. Troy locked the door behind him, although it wouldn't do much good if his parents came home early.

Grabbing Gabriella's hand, he pulled her up the stairs into his room. As soon as they got there, he didn't waste any time. Eagerly, he connected their lips, immediately nibbling on her bottom lip, asking for permission. Gabriella complied, her arms wrapping around his neck and grasping his hair as Troy's tongue explored the crevices of her mouth.

_This,_ Troy thought blissfully, _this is where I want to be._

And at that precise moment, Gabriella pulled away. _Why_, he wanted to moan, _why would you want to do anything but this?_

Then he heard the door downstairs open, no doubt the sound that Gabriella had heard a moment before him. She jumped up as Troy muttered, "Damn it, can't we-"

"Complain later," Gabriella ordered, out of breath. Troy inwardly grinned at the effect he had on her. "Where do I hide?"

Also out of breath, Troy told her as he stood up, "The closet."

Gabriella nodded and hid where he had directed. Troy straightened his clothes and looked out the window – the car was Chad's, and Troy cursed himself over and over – _why_ had he told Chad the code to their garage door again? He had no idea. Troy could hear Chad thunder up the stairs, and didn't even have time to do anything but throw himself back on the bed before Chad threw the door open and strutted in.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing here?"

Troy raised an eyebrow. "Are you my mother?"

Chad shrugged and sat on the bed, bouncing a few times before saying, "You left, and then the next thing I know Rebecca Simmons is demanding that I tell her where you are, because she's looking for you." He wiggled his eyebrows. "I heard, by the way. When Sharpay told me I thought it was just a rumor, but then Rebecca started giving me details… she was drunk, obviously. But it sounds like she was good fuck."

"Or I was," Troy said dryly, and Chad made a face. "Anyways," Troy continued, "what the hell are you doing here?"

Chad shrugged, "Besides wanting you to get your ass back to Deacon's house? I wanted to know if she really was as good as she sounded. I mean, better than Stacey Willard?"

Troy shrugged and said, "I guess. You should fool around with her. Rebecca, I mean, because I swear if she tries to come onto me I'm making her regret it."

Chad laughed, "Well, if it's for a friend…"

Troy knew he had done that perfectly, and then aimed for the kill. "Go for it," he said. "I'll be over in a half hour or so – my head hurts like hell. As soon as the Advil starts to kick in I'll make my way over."

"Cool," Chad said, grinning. "You don't want the hangover before you've even begun drinking, right? Oh, and wish me luck, man. Call me when you get back. If I don't answer, you'll know where I'll be…" He trailed off suggestively and left.

As soon as Chad was gone, the closet busted open. Troy stood up, saying, "Hey, sorry about that it took forever to get him to…"

He trailed off, staring confusedly into the furious gaze of Gabriella. Her eyes were on fire, although Troy also noticed that she was perilously close to tears. He frowned, not understanding. Uncertainly, he asked, "Gabi?"

The tears were definitely coming now, and Troy wanted so badly to wipe them away. He tried to, but she jerked away, leaving him with a hurt expression on his face. Right then, with her silent tears and her body all folded in, she had never looked so vulnerable.

"I can't believe you," she whispered. "I trusted you and you were just sleeping with a million other girls, too." Gabriella watched Troy pale, and she knew that she had caught him.

"Gabi," he said worriedly, taking a hesitant step towards her. She stepped back, her arms crossed over her chest. She noticed the hurt look that crossed his face, and felt a little better. "You don't actually believe anything Chad said, did you?"

"Fuck you, Troy Bolton."

Troy took that as a 'yes' as he watched Gabriella run out the door.

--

**Yes, the next chapter is already posted. Go read it, if you're not too angry at me for not updating in so long.**


	15. 2 Crying Girls and 3 Foolish Guys

**ATTENTION! IF YOU HAVE NOT REREAD CHAPTER 13 YET DO SO NOW!**

**Why? I rewrote about half of it. The setting changed slightly, and a few details changed that aren't vitally important but will make this chapter slightly confusing. I'm not summarizing the changes here, because I want to watch House and also because it's totally your choice.**

**It might be annoying that I rewrote a chapter, but it's for the best. The second version is how I originally envisioned the story, and I want you guys to have the same experience that I do with Troy and Gabriella. Besides, this one is just better. We get to see lots of Alejandro.**

**Speaking of Alejandro, I feel that I should mention that his name actually belongs to a friend of mine. So do the names Gio and Josh, two guys in my math class last year that here are apart of the Scholastic Decathlon team. Um, Arcadia is based off of my friend Abby. I might have mentioned all of that before, but it's worth mentioning again.**

**My apologies that this is so long, but two more things. One, this chapter is dedicated to laughXoutXloud for her PM, and second don't hate me because I don't know much about security cameras. I did ask my brother, though.**

**Chapter 14: Saving Face**

_I told you everything  
Opened up and let you in  
You made me feel alright  
For once in my life  
Now all that's left of me  
Is what I pretend to be  
So together, but so broken up inside_

Here I am, once again  
I'm torn into pieces  
Can't deny it, can't pretend  
Just thought you were the one

_- Behind These Hazel Eyes, Kelly Clarkson_

For a moment, Troy just stood there in shock.

The next moment, he sprang into action. This was his girlfriend, and he'd be damned if he was going to lose her. So, he did the first logical thing he could do, he ran after her.

But, of course, fate had a few problems with that, because the moment Troy reached the bottom of the stairs, his cell phone rang. Troy swore, knowing that it couldn't be Gabriella. But still… what if it was? His phone was on the last ring, leaving Troy no time to check who was calling before he flipped open his phone and asked, "Yeah?"

_Please,_ he prayed, _please be Gabriella, or someone who can help me. Please._

"Troy?"

It wasn't Gabriella. Troy wilted, allowing himself a moment of mourning before darting out the door. The voice was that of a girl's, and she was sobbing brokenly into the phone. Upon hearing her, Troy frowned. This couldn't be good. His frown only deepened when he ran to his car, only to find his keys not in there. _What the…?_

"Raleigh?" Troy asked, successfully hiding the anxiousness in his voice, which was caused partially by Raleigh's worrisome voice but mostly by the fact that Troy had no idea where his keys were. As he patted down his pockets in hopes of discovering them, he asked distractedly, "What did you do?"

The girl's pitiful sobs continued – the only sound in the dark night. Troy froze, his hands dropping to his sides as a thought occurred to him. He paled and asked slowly into the phone, "Ral, did you go into the kitchen?"

"I-I just n-n-needed to get my coat," Raleigh whispered helplessly, her tears now lessening slightly. Troy's memory was thrown back to the party, right before he left…

_"Troy? What are you doing here?"_

_Troy looked up to see a confused Raleigh walking towards him, and he knew why. He had told her the day before that he wasn't coming. He shrugged noncommittally, a thought nagging in the back of his mind. _Jason and Ryan…

_"I'm leaving."_

_"Okay," Raleigh shrugged. "I'm just going to go into the kitchen and grab a drink. Troy frowned, a voice flooding his brain. _"That bitch? I don't want anything, anything to do with her." _Jason. Troy shook his head to rid himself of the voice._

_He quickly glanced at Gabriella, and then at the kitchen door as his hand darted out to grasp Raleigh's wrist. Shaking his head, he told her flatly, "Don't go into the kitchen, okay?"_

_"Why?" Raleigh asked, obviously befuddled. There was something in her eyes, though, something that looked like dread. It made Troy certain that there was a problem, and that she knew about it._

_Troy debated explaining everything, but pushed that thought away. Gabriella was waiting, and he could tell that Raleigh wasn't as confused as she was pretending to be. Giving her a look, all he said was, "Just don't."_

_Raleigh nodded slowly, understanding in her eyes._

_"There are drinks out back, too," he said, and gestured for her to go. She gave him one last look, and then did._

_He took a deep breath. Crisis averted – for the time being._

Troy visibly tensed as he opened his car door and starting searching hastily for his keys. (Did he leave them in there? Did they fall out of his pocket?) There was a moment of tense silence before Troy told her flatly, "Jason was drunk, Raleigh – he was very, very drunk. Trust me, I saw him. He was too drunk to realize what he was saying. He didn't mean any of it. In fact, he probably didn't even realize you were the person he was talking to."

"He knew it was me," Raleigh whimpered, and Troy had a sudden vision of her curled up in the driver's seat of her car, knees to her chest and phone held in between her shoulder and ear. He could picture her mascara running down her face, and all of the contents of her glove compartment spread across the dashboard, car floor, and passenger seat, thrown there by Raleigh in a desperate search for tissues or napkins to wipe away her tears. "He stood up and started yelling – he called me a backstabbing bitch, a slut, a whore..."

Raleigh broke off, sniffling; thankfully, her choked sobs and sniffles where loud enough that she didn't hear Troy slam his head on the roof of the car in shock. Swearing softly, he remained frozen in a rather awkward position, stretched out across the driver's seat on his hands and knees, examining the floor of the passenger's side. Troy, his voice hard, asked coldly, "Ral, where's Ryan?"

"I-I don't know."

"You don't know?" Troy asked, not mad because he knew he'd be getting the story momentarily. He crawled out of the car. His keys were not there, and Raleigh was making him move slowly.

And it came in the form of Raleigh renewing her sobs, which Troy listened to as patiently as he could as he ran back up into the house. Through her sobs, it was just barely possible to decipher her words, and once Troy heard them he wished he hadn't. "I slept with him, okay! We had fucking sex! I went to his house, after Ryan and I fought, and he just was so nice. And next thing I know one of us kissed the other and, and..."

She trailed off, and there was a moment of stunned silence before Troy took a deep breath and asked evenly, "I assume you're talking about Nate."

"I know, I know, it was incredibly stupid, and I shouldn't have let a one-time thing ruin my relationship with Ryan," Raleigh laughed bitterly. "I've heard the spiel twice now, okay? Now Ryan and I are over, my own brother thinks I'm a slut, and soon the whole school will, too. I don't need it, okay? I don't fucking need it."

"Well, then what _do_ you need?" Troy asked testily.

There was silence for a moment before Raleigh asked softly into the phone, "I need to know if it's true."

"You mean…" Troy trailed off, glancing around the living room sharply, "Why would you think he'd tell me?"

"_He _wouldn't – _she_ would."

Troy knew Raleigh was right. Hesitating, he answered, "I don't know – and there's no guarantee I'll tell you if I do find out."

"But you _will_ find out?"

Troy exhaled heavily. "I always do."

He hung up his phone and stuffed it into his pocket, swearing violently before running to the kitchen. He needed his mom's keys if he couldn't find his, and hers weren't in the living room. Keys, keys… Troy darted into the kitchen and spotted the keys to his mom's car on the counter. Grabbing them, he ran out the door and jumped into his mom's car, leaving his car behind.

He drove the familiar route to Gabriella's house, driving at fifteen miles per hour with his high beams on, looking for her. He knew her well enough to know that she would go home – so she had either walked or gone back to the party for her car, if she had brought one. Either way, the Montez house was her end destination. But if he could catch her on the way there, that was even better.

Troy sighed as his eyes combed the streets for her, berating himself yet again for his stupidity. He had never been this thoughtless before – he should've realized that Gabriella would find out at some point, that she wouldn't believe the truth. Of _course_ she would assume he was cheating it on her and trying to cover it up.

He saw her half a minute later, talking urgently into her cell phone as she stomped along the road. Troy slowed down next to her rolling down his window and starting, "Gabriella-"

She didn't look at him, just started walking faster, and Troy heard her say into her phone, "No, Taylor, I'm fine – yeah, I swear, I just really don't feel good… I got a ride from someone at the party – of course you can still come!... yeah, I'll leave the key out in the normal spot," she choked back a sob. "No, don't worry, I'm not crying," she wiped her eyes. "Okay, have fun, alright? Bye."

Troy watched her silently from inside the car, watching Gabriella put her cell phone away and cross her arms, her shoulder slumping inwards and making her look smaller than she really was. She didn't even look at him as she said, "Go away, okay Troy. Just go. I want to be alone."

"I'm not leaving you," Troy told her firmly. His voice softening, he pleaded, "Just get into the car, please. We can talk about this. It's not-"

"I don't care," she said sullenly, quickening her pace.

Troy sped his car up a fraction to keep pace, longing to just get out of the car and wrap his arms around her. He knew that wasn't an option, though – the only reason she wasn't running was because she wouldn't be able to outrun a car. Although she couldn't outrun Troy on foot, either, there was more of a chance he could lose sight of her in the dark.

"Look, I wanted people to get off my back, so I lied and said that I was sleeping with a lot of girls," Troy revealed, his words so quick he stumbled slightly over them. He waited, holding his breath in anticipation of her reaction.

It was then that Gabriella looked up at him, her gaze filled with utmost disgust, and Troy knew that she didn't believe him. He tried again, "I know it sound stupid, but Sharpay could tell that I had sex the morning after our first time – something about my eyes, and probably my wrinkled clothes and messed up hair, too – and she called me on it. I didn't want it to get traced to you, since at the time I wasn't even sure if you had wanted it to happen, so I lied. And then I kept on lying, because our relationship was a secret."

"Or," she countered, "you were really sleeping with those girls, because it was easy to get away with." She laughed bitterly, and Troy felt a shiver run through him. It wasn't a good shiver. "It makes perfect sense. I don't talk to your other friends, so I'd never know. You could just have all the sex you wanted. I'm so stupid." She shook her head, and Troy could hear in her voice how close to tears she was. "Just leave me alone, Bolton. I'm done with you."

"I'm not a cheater," he said adamantly. "And I would _never_ hurt you, Gabi. I lo-" he stopped, shaking his head. Like she'd believe him if he said it then. "You mean more to me than _anyone_, and I mean that." He stared at her, and whispered, "Please…"

"Leave me alone," she whispered. She had stopped walking, and Troy wrongly thought that maybe she was going to give him a change to explain.

He started to speak, but she cut him off and repeated in a louder and more firm voice, "Leave me alone."

Troy tried again. "Gabi, I–"

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed, and started to run. Troy sped up his car, keeping pace with her.

"Gabi–" he started, and then froze. Troy knew what she was going to do a moment before it happened. _No,_ he shouted in his thoughts, _no, please don't… she wouldn't–_

Gabriella darted away from the road, crossing through two yards that were back to back before crossing the road on the other side, where Troy had no hope of following in his car. Gabriella was two houses away from her house, meaning that it would be impossible for Troy to reach the house before her. She would lock the doors, and that would be that.

Troy swore loudly. If it was his car and not his mother's, he would've gotten out of her car in a second and followed. But with the car he had, that wasn't possible. He banged on the dashboard violently, clenching his teeth as he thought hard about what to do.

The road was empty – as it generally was at past midnight – so that Troy was able to turn off his car and sit in it in the middle of the road for ten minutes as he thought about his options.

He couldn't think of any.

It turned out this was a good thing, because if Troy hadn't lingered in his car for those ten minutes, he never would have seen the figure follow Gabriella a few moments after she disappeared from view.

------

Alejandro was not a bad person, he was convinced of that. He had done nothing wrong. He had merely contemplated what his team captain was doing, and then decided to investigate. He was innocent. It was Sharpay who had inadvertently broken up Troy and his girlfriend, after all.

Who the girlfriend was, Alejandro wasn't quite sure. She had dark hair, and was rather petite – that much he could tell. She was wearing a miniskirt (though compared to the other skirts girls were wearing, it didn't seem that "mini" at all) and flowing, spaghetti-strap top with a deep V-neck, not a very warm outfit. He was rather surprised that she didn't accept Troy's offer to drive her home.

Yes, to answer your question, Alejandro was watching. He was good at watching, which was why Sharpay had approached him. She had done the "planting", and he was assigned to do the watching. She never told Alejandro what she was going to "plant", but he soon figured it out, and was somewhat impressed. Sharpay had done quick work of telling Chad about Rebecca, and then convincing Rebecca that she had, in fact, slept with Troy. Or maybe it wasn't that hard – Chad was an idiot, and Rebecca had drunken one night stands with people she couldn't remember every night.

It had been Alejandro's job to find Troy and his mystery girl, so he had. It hadn't been easy, though. Before finally checking Troy's house, he had checked every room in the house the party was in. This resulted in many unhappy couples, in the throws of making out – or more intimate pastimes – being interrupted by Alejandro throwing the door open and turning on the light, only to reverse his actions as he realized that the people were not the ones he was looking for.

The next stop was Troy's house, where he saw Troy's car. He had just enough time to hide behind the bushes when Chad's car raced into the vacant spot next to Troy's. Not five minutes later, Chad was coming out again. And less than a minute after that a girl came running out. The mystery girl.

So, really, Alejandro had no choice but to follow her at a careful distance – a distance that became even more pronounced as Troy's car sped up behind him and started to keep pace with the girl. He wasn't, however, far enough away that he couldn't hear their conversation. He didn't get to hear it all, but Alejandro got the jist. The girl thought Troy was cheating on her, and he was vehemently denying it. It was a valid thought, except that there was no way in hell it was true. Troy wasn't the type of guy to bother with a relationship if he wanted to sleep around. And that was besides the fact that Troy wouldn't chase after a girl he didn't care enough about to be faithful to.

By then, Alejandro was curious – or more curious than before, at any rate. Who _was_ this girl? It was this question that drove him to follow the girl at a distance up to a rather average house that was dark and obviously empty. Still, Alejandro approached it with caution, and only after he was sure that the girl wasn't going to be looking out of any of the front windows and see him.

If Alejandro had hoped to have a sudden epiphany at setting eyes on her house, he was sorely disappointed. He still had no idea who this mystery girl was, and it was getting annoying. He sighed in obvious frustration, walking up the driveway in the darkest of the shadows. There were no cars in the driveway, and no sort of hint about the family name on the porch (yes, he did approach the front door). Alejandro had just resigned himself to finding the street name and address and looking it up online when he was interrupted.

There was a crunch of leaves behind him, and then a voice that was familiar and at the same time foreign spoke.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?"

Alejandro spun around, staring at the tall figure cast in the shadow about ten feet away. The man took a few steps forward, and flicked on some sort of porch light that Alejandro hadn't realized was there.

Both of them were bathed in light, and at seeing the other a look of shock crossed each of their faces. Alejandro squinted, staring at the tall figure of Spencer Gates. Alejandro would know him anywhere – Gates had given him a bloody nose the last time they had seen each other.

Narrowing his eyes, Alejandro asked, "I could ask you the same thing."

"Did Bolton send you here?" Spencer asked, ignoring the question pointed at him. His voice was menacing, and Alejandro wondered why this house was so important. Did Spencer himself live here? No, Troy wouldn't care about that. Troy doesn't care about any West High person except for…

"Is this… is this Montez's house?"

Alejandro could hear the incredulous in his own voice, so it didn't surprise him when Spencer raised an eyebrow and asked suspiciously, "You didn't know that?"

It was at that moment that Alejandro heard the car. It past the driveway and turned down the next street, and he was 99 percent sure it was Troy – the car looked like the one he had been in before, and it would make sense that he would park a ways away, especially if the girl he was trying to win back was Montez's sister.

A stricken look on his face, Alejandro glanced around before spotting the trees by the side of the house and hissing to Spencer, "We've got to hide – that's Troy."

"Troy Bolton?" Spencer asked, but nevertheless he followed Alejandro, albeit confusedly. Alejandro pulled him down into the underbrush and in an undertone told him, "He's chasing after the girl in that house – they got into a fight and now he's chasing after her, and Sharpay told me to follow, but now I don't think I can tell her anything..." Alejandro rambled.

"Wait," Spencer interrupted. "Why the hell would Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez even be talking, never mind fighting?"

Alejandro wasn't sure if telling Spencer Gates was a good decision, but it was the only way he could get answers, so he replied, "Troy's dating whatever girl is inside that house – apparently Gabriella Montez. Vincent's sister?" Spencer nodded. "Yeah, she thinks he's cheating on him. I followed them here and listened in on their conversation."

"We would know if a Montez and Bolton were dating," Spencer said, rolling his eyes. "Lay off it."

"It's true. Watch this." Alejandro gestured to the figure now full-out running up the driveway. Everything was silent, save for Troy's footsteps as he was bathed in the light that Spencer had turned on before. Troy was on his cell phone, no doubt frantically trying to reach Gabriella. As they watched, he pressed the end button on his phone and then hit redial. She wasn't answering. In the bushes, Alejandro could hear Spencer's sharp intake of breath.

"Shit," he whispered. It _was_ Troy. Alejandro merely nodded. Spencer turned to him and said, "Gabriella went in there?"

"She was crying," Alejandro confirmed.

Spencer seemed to be considering something, and after hesitation gestured for Alejandro to follow him. The made their way through the trees to the side yard, where Alejandro could see a light was on upstairs in a room with a balcony. Through the parted curtains, he could see a girl crying on a bed. He could see her hair splayed out around her, and her heaving shoulders. He couldn't see much else, but the angle gave him the vague notion that maybe she didn't have clothes on. He quickly dismissed that idea – no girl would leave the curtains open if she didn't have clothes on. He turned to face Spencer, who was staring at the girl with a strange expression on his face.

Alejandro remained silent until Spencer finally spoke. His eyes still glued on Gabriella, he said, "Did Bolton really cheat on her?"

That was when Alejandro remembered the conversation he had with Ryan right before he had left the party….

"_Hey, Ryan, have you seen Troy anywhere?"_

_Alejandro asked, sticking his head in the kitchen to ask. The sight he saw astounded him – Jason, Ryan, and a few other guys he didn't know, sitting on the floor and drinking from a few bottles of what he guessed to be vodka. Ryan looked up, the top half of him swaying as he lifted up the bottle in his hand and said, "Ale, my man, come have some! We're bitching about my ex-girlfriend."_

_"You're ex-girlfriend?" Alejandro frowned. This was news. Who was his last girlfriend? Eva Yavorski, maybe? "What did Eva do this time?"_

_"Not Eva," Jason said, waving a hand in the air wildly, as if to wave away Alejandro's suggestion. "My sister, who was slutty enough to cheat on him with a fucking college guy!"_

_"Ral?" Alejandro was really confused now. "She wouldn't do that."_

_"But she did," another guy said. "Dude, she totally cheated on him with Nate. Like, Matt and Alex's friend Nate."_

_"Whatever," Alejandro said, shaking his head and trying to focus on the problem at hand. "Have any of you seen Troy?"_

_"Naw, maybe he's with Shar," Jason suggested. Alejandro rolled his eyes – he knew _that_ wasn't true._

_Ryan's eyes lit up as he said, "You know, Shar totally freaked out last night about Troy – said he's been hiding stuff from her or whatever. And lying. Like about all of the girls he's been with, I guess. She said he hasn't been sleeping with them." Ryan made a face. "It was when I was watching TV, too. I completely missed the seventh inning of the baseball game."_

_"What baseball game?" a guy slurred. A few guys tried to think of recent games, until Ryan finally shouted out at one of the suggestions, "Yeah, that one!"_

_"Dude," someone commiserated, "the seventh inning was the best one."_

_Alejandro knew for a fact the game they were talking about had happened two weeks before, and that all of the scoring had taken place in the first three innings. He shrugged it off and left, having determined none of them would be of any help._

Back with Spencer, Alejandro's eyes lit up. He glanced towards Spencer and said, "No, he didn't – and I know how we can show Gabriella he's telling the truth."

"Do we want that to happen?" Spencer asked, although his voice was uncertain. "It'll only cause trouble – a Montez and a Bolton, together."

Alejandro jerked his head towards the sobbing figure of Gabriella in the window and asked matter-of-factly, "Do you want _that_ to keep on happening? She's obviously not happy without him."

Spencer's gaze followed Alejandro's lead, and he found himself staring fixedly on Gabriella for several moments. Sure, he didn't want her anywhere near Troy Bolton. But she liked him, for better or for worse. And she was hurting. All he wanted was for her to be happy, and she was happy with Troy Bolton.

He turned back to Alejandro. "So, what's the plan?"

-----

Gabriella wondered if people could die of broken hearts. She had to assume they couldn't, because if it _was_ humanly possible she would probably be dead. That was how much it hurt.

To be honest, she couldn't quite decide which was worse: that Troy had broken heart, and didn't care for her, or that she had been so easily tricked and manipulated. Either way, they were both bad enough that Gabriella was in tears as she grabbed the key under the potted plant at the foot of the front door, unlocked the door, and flung it open. She made sure to bring the key with her as she ran inside and up the stairs.

Her plan was to throw herself onto her bed and cry her eyes out until she didn't have any more tears left in her body, but then as she slammed her door shut she caught a look at herself in her full-length mirror. Her bright red floating top that Arcadia had convinced her to buy because it was "sexy" just looked slutty now, and looking at the disgustingly short skirt reminded her why she hadn't wanted to wear it in the first place.

Gabriella looked at the girl in the mirror, with her blow-dried hair (Gabriella couldn't remember the last time she had blow-dried her hair) and overdone eye makeup that was smudged from the tears, and wondered when this stranger had taken the place of the real Gabriella.

Who had made her into this girl? Was it Troy, the sexy boyfriend she thought had cared and seen her for who she really was? Or was it Arcadia, the wild child that had taken Gabriella's hand and shown her how to be everything she had been too afraid to be before? Maybe it was both, Gabriella didn't know.

Anger surged through her, not at Arcadia or Troy, but at herself. She had let herself become like this, and now all Gabriella wanted was to be herself again. She was sick, so sick of it – that's all she could think about as she threw off her shirt, kicked off her ballet flats that were supposed to be comfortable but weren't, and yanked down her skirt. Now clad only in a bra and underwear, Gabriella glared at herself in the mirror before busting into tears again – and just at that moment realizing that while she had been examining herself the tears had actually stopped.

It was then that she threw herself onto her bed, grabbing onto a random stuffed animal, not because she needed it, but because she needed something to hold, so that she could pretend she wasn't as alone as she really was. This, she thought sourly as she looked up and wiped her eyes sometime later, is why it sucks to break up a relationship that no one knows about – there's no one to comfort you when it falls apart.

Sighing, she got up, realizing that all she was wearing were her undergarments. Mentally swearing as she realized the curtains were on and praying that no one had seen her, she walked over to her dresser and grabbed an oversized t-shirt from the top drawer. Then, rifling through the drawer under that, she took out a pair of sweatpants that her brother had outgrown. Slipping on both articles of clothing, she took a deep breath and wrapped her arms across her stomach. Already, she felt a bit better. The tears were gone and she was in familiar clothing. Just that comforted her, though the events that had taken place that night still were burned into her brain, constricting her lungs and heart and stomach. It was all impossible to forget, but at least she didn't feel like a stranger in her own body.

What did girls that had just been cheated on do? Gabriella considered this half-heartedly, and the first thing that came to mind was ice cream. And painting her nails. Maybe some loud, angry music, too. And of course she'd need friends with her to make the experience complete – but she didn't have any of those around, so she'd have to make due. Gabriella checked her watch, only to find that it was too late to be blasting music. The neighbors would wake up and get angry. She then looked down at her sparkly gold nails that she had just painted the night before. They looked so perfect, she didn't want to repaint them.

But ice cream? _That_ she could do.

------

"Security cameras?" Spencer asked in disbelief. "Are you joking, or something?"

Alejandro brushed off Spencer's lack of faith in his plan and said confidently, "It'll work. You don't know Montague like I do."

"Montague? Is that the name of the security guard hired to take people like us out?" Spencer challenged, turning off the car and glaring at Alejandro, who just smirked and got out of the car, which was parked the driveway of the Evans' mansion.

"Of course not," Alejandro said calmly. "He's the guy that watches the security cameras – he covers for us all the time when we drink alcohol or when Jason is stupid enough to light up in front of one of the cameras."

"Isn't it against the rules for him to give you the tapes?" Spencer asked, hastily following Alejandro out of the car and stuffing his keys in his pocket as he continued, "Or something like that?"

"Yeah, it is, but I'm pretty damn sure it isn't against the rules for us to take it without his permission."

Spencer jogged to catch up with Alejandro, who was undoubtedly the fasted walker he had ever met. Rolling his eyes, Spencer challenged, "And how do we distract him, or whatever."

Alejandro suddenly stopped, spinning around to stare into Spencer's eyes. They were, Spencer realized in mild surprise, pretty close to the same height. Alejandro was a bit shorter, but most people were shorter than Spencer. He was more than six feet tall, after all. Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, Alejandro said coolly, "There are two security rooms – one for current feed from the cameras, and another room that holds the computers with earlier stuff – it keeps everything organized."

He turned around again and started walking, this time with Spencer keeping pace next to him. There was a moment of peaceful silence until Spencer casually asked, "Should I be worried about how you know so much about this?"

"What is this, twenty questions? Last year, there was a robbery that included both the Evans' house and the country club, and Mr. Evans freaked out. Now they have this state-of-the-art alarm system, and intense security cameras. As long as I can find what I'm looking for, it should take ten minutes tops to burn it onto a DVD."

"And what's on it will have something persuasive enough to convince Gabriella that Troy wasn't lying?"

"Yeah."

They approached the guardhouse at the entrance to the country club – it was more than a guardhouse, though. Spencer thought it looked more like a small house. It had two stories and several rooms from what he could see. From what Alejandro said he guessed there were a lot of computer monitors in there, connected to security cameras at the house as well as at the country club.

Alejandro stopped, eyeing the guardhouse critically. He glanced at Spencer before saying shortly, "Your car broke down, and we need to call someone. You can do the "calling", and I'll ask to go to the bathroom. Then I'll sneak in and burn the DVD. Should be easy enough – the only people in there are Montague, another camera monitoring guy, and the guard on duty."

"Okay," Spencer said, nodding carefully.

Alejandro led him to a side door, and when he knocked a rather big and burly man who looked like a football player answered. He was middle-aged, and a grin lit up his face as he exclaimed, "Hey, Ale, my man! What's up? I didn't realize anyone was coming over tonight. Sharpay and Ryan are out."

"I know," Alejandro said sullenly. "I was on my way to meet them with Gates, here, but our car broke down way back and there's no service for AT&T out here, which of course happens to be the server we both have. Think we could make a call, Monty?"

"That sucks," Montague replied sympathetically. "I have Verizon myself." He gestured to the cell phone clipped to his belt loop that had _Verizon_ printed on it in barely legible lettering, and Spencer silently applauded Alejandro's quick observational skills. Or maybe he already knew. Spencer turned his attention back to Montague, who was saying, "But, yeah, you guys can make a call no problem. Just use my cell."

He unclipped his cell phone and handed it to Alejandro, who took it and passed it onto Spencer. "Call Spencer," Alejandro advised. "I'm just going to use the bathroom."

Alejandro slipped down the hallway, and Spencer realized what he was doing – allowing Spencer to call himself and get his voicemail. It was perfect. Spencer flipped open the cell phone as casually as possible and dialed his own number – his cell phone was in the car, so it didn't matter if it rang or not. As it rang, Spencer asked Montague casually, "Your name was Monty, Ale said?" It felt strange calling Alejandro "Ale" when he usually called him by his last name, Manzano, but Montague apparently didn't hear the hesitating in his voice.

Casually, Montague said, "Yeah, short for Montague – one of those horrible family names."

"Yeah, same with mine," Spencer said. "Gates is an okay last name, but it sucks as a first name."

He reached his voice mail, and said into it, "Hey, Spence, my car broke down and Alejandro and I need a ride or jumpstart or something – can you come and pick us up? We're right before the Evans'. Thanks. Don't try to call back, we can't get service. Try texting, maybe." He hung up, and said to Montague, "He'll get it – Spencer always waits to listen to the voicemails first. One of his weird habits."

"So you all set?"

Spencer nodded and then added, "Just need to wait for Ale." He handed Montague the phone back and added, "Thanks a lot – you saved our lives there."

Montague chuckled and said, "I wouldn't quite put it that way."

They made small talk for a minute or two, with Spencer distracted the whole time with what he knew Alejandro was doing. Was he successful? Why was it taking so long? Was something going wrong? Most likely because of Spencer's short answers to Montague's attempts at polite conversation, they finally lapsed into an awkward silence. Soon after, Alejandro reemerged from the "bathroom". He looked straight at Spencer and asked, "Everything good?"

Spencer nodded, "I left a message – he's on his way."

"Awesome," Alejandro said. They thanked Montague again and made their way out.

As soon as they were a safe distance away from the guardhouse, Spencer let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He glanced at the DVD in Alejandro's hands and laughed sourly. Alejandro glanced in his direction, and before he could ask what was wrong, Spencer said in disbelief, "I still can't believe I'm helping my enemy get together with my best friend's sister."

"He's not your enemy," Alejandro pointed out reasonably. "He's Montez's enemy."

Spencer shrugged. "It's the same thing, for us."

------

Troy groaned in frustration, slamming his fist against the side of Gabriella's house angrily. He had been trapped outside the house for more than a half-hour, trying all of the windows he could reach in the hopes that one of them would be open. None of them were.

On top of that, he was still on the lookout for the figure he had seen following Gabriella. He had searched for whoever it was, but he hadn't found anyone. Maybe it was all a mistake, and the person hadn't been following Gabriella, or maybe Troy's eyes were playing tricks on him. Or maybe the person was hiding from him.

Life sucks, Troy inwardly moaned as he glanced around in despair around him. He wondered if Gabriella had calmed down enough that she would let him in if he knocked on her balcony doors. Not likely, he thought sourly.

Maybe he should check them again… or try second story windows. He squinted up into the darkness looming above him – it was worth a shot, if he could find a way to get up there. His first thought was the balcony. Yeah right, he inwardly scoffed. As if Gabriella wouldn't freak if she saw him…

But what if she _didn't_ see him?

Troy liked this idea. She couldn't stay in her room forever, right? He grinned to himself. Yes, that could work. He could see if the bathroom window next to Gabriella's room was open, which it usually was to let fresh air in. And when Gabriella wasn't in her room, he could sneak up and surprise her. With this in mind, Troy stealthily ran around the back of the house until he was on the other side, looking up at the balcony. He was in the shadow of the trees, so she couldn't see him, but he was still cautions as he looked in her window.

She wasn't there. Troy let out a breath, relief and hope washing over him. He was even more elated as he saw that the bathroom window was, indeed, open. Not wasting any time, he darted towards the tree and climbed up it. As soon as he got onto the balcony, he hastily tried the doors into Gabriella's room, but they were locked.

Troy didn't pause, though, and instead ran to the far left side of the balcony. The bathroom window was a little higher up, and a stretch for his arms, but Troy was able to pry the screen off with little problem. His haste making him clumsy, he threw the screen onto the balcony and then pushed the window open as high as it would go.

Then there was nothing to do but climb in. Taking one last look to make sure Gabriella wasn't there, he stepped up onto the balcony railing, one hand reaching out towards the window and the other grasping the side of the house to keep him steady. Troy took a deep breath, trying not to look down. With his free hand, he grasped onto the side of the window, and reached one leg so that his foot was safely on the windowsill. He then used all of his strength to pull the rest of himself over, sliding his body part by part down into the bathroom as he did so.

It was a tight fit – Troy banged up both of his elbows and got cuts in between his nails and the skin of his fingertips, because he had been grasping onto the wood of the window edge so tightly. He hoped he didn't have any splinters, but didn't bother to check. He had slammed his knee pretty badly, but after the initial contact the pain faded into a dull throbbing. All in all, Troy decided, he hadn't done half bad.

Troy made a face at the blood accumulating at his fingertips, and wiped them on his jeans. His first thought was that Gabriella wouldn't be happy at all if she found out, and his heart started to ache as it had been before. In the ten seconds it had taken him to climb into the window, Troy had been too preoccupied to pay attention to the hurt. Now it was back and worse than ever, which just strengthened his resolve. He had to make things right.

It was then that he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

------

Gabriella stared at the ice cream in front of her. She had three pints of different flavors of Ben and Jerry's ice cream on the bed in front of her as she sat cross-legged on her comforter. She clenched a spoon in her hand. As soon as ice cream entered her mind, her taste buds started to crave it. But all she could think about was how one of the flavors she had, Chocolate Fudge Brownie, was Troy's favorite. And then she remembered when he had asked her out on their first date, when they were walking around the park eating ice cream.

It was kind of ironic, because just as she was thinking that she heard a shuffling noise. Her head shot up, and there he was. Troy Bolton, in all of his glory, as if her imagination had conjured him up in her doorway. Almost automatically, she jumped off the bed and stood up stiffly in front of her balcony doors.

He looked… Gabriella wasn't really sure what he looked like. Different, that was for sure. It was as if all life and hope had left his body. His eyes were dull, staring at her with pain. His face looked sullen and miserable and… tortured. There were so many horrible ways to describe the way he looked. Troy Bolton was… broken. Gabriella shuddered at the thought. But that couldn't be true, she consoled herself matter-of-factly. Troy was the one that cheated on her. If anything, _she _was the broken one.

Wordlessly, Troy walked towards her, reaching a hand out as if to touch her face.

"Get away from me," she hissed, slapping his hand away. He watched her warily, examining her silently. A second later, all of the fight seemed to leave her as she shook her head, turning away and whispering, "Just… just go away. I don't want to be around you right now."

"You actually think I cheated on you," Troy stated in disbelief, the incredulity in his voice audible to Gabriella.

She spun around. "Well what else am I supposed to think? There's no one else to ask. No one knows we're together!"

"So believe _me_!"

Gabriella could now see another emotion, battling with the despair and hopelessness – determination.

"Right," she said, her voice rising, "because any guy that cheated on his girlfriend would really admit it."

"I don't think he would've followed her in his car and then, when she runs away from him, track her down at her house, which includes climbing through a window, by the way, if he didn't love her enough to refrain from cheating on her."

"What is it about me that would make you even think _twice_ about cheating? What am I to you Troy, because it's not like you've been telling me much! You haven't even bothered to tell me why the hell you're making an effort to be in a relationship with me!"

Troy started to wonder if maybe coming to talk to her hadn't been the right decision after all. He needed _proof_.

"Oh, wait, that's right," Gabriella laughed bitterly, answering her own question, "I'm _interesting_." She spat out the word as if it was the vilest thing he could've said to her, and Troy winced.

"I think we both know it's more than that," he told her, his eyes piercing into hers.

"Well, then why don't you tell me how you really feel, since apparently you haven't been sharing before now!" she shouted. "Tell me, what the _hell _is so interesting about me, Troy Bolton? Because whatever it is, _I don't see it_!"

"You're," he hesitated, his voice breaking. "You're amazing, Gabi – you're different than any other girl it. You make_ me_ different. And-" he broke off for a second, "I don't think I could cheat on you even if I wanted to. No one else is like you, Gabi, you _have_ to believe that."

"Oh, really?" she was mad again, and Troy knew that he had said the wrong thing. "That's how you really feel? Why can't you just tell me straight out what the hell am I to you? You haven't really been clear about it before, and you still aren't being clear about it now! Am I just someone that you fool around with, or do you honest-to-God care about me? Because right now it seems like you don't feel anything for me at all!"

Her voice had risen, and Troy could tell Gabriella was trying to fight back more tears. He took a step forward, but she hastily took another step back. "Gabi," his voice was so soft, so…_ loving_. Gabriella shook her head vehemently back and forth. She wasn't going to let Troy get into her head again. Not this time.

"I love you."

The words hung between them, and as Gabriella heard Troy utter them the tears started to pour out. She tried to wipe them away, shaking her head even harder then before and crying, "Don't say that…" she sobbed. "Just… don't _say_ that."

Troy walked forward, and at first she didn't resist as he gathered her in his arms and pressed their bodies together – it felt so right, and comfortable. It felt like home. But then she remembered, and started to try to writhe out of his grasp, gasping through her tears, "Let me go, let me go!"

"No," Troy told her quietly into her ear, holding her closer still. "I love you, Gabi. I love you so, so much. I'm not leaving."

Gabriella cried even harder, but she stopped asking him to leave, because she was fairly certain she didn't want him to.

It was precisely at that moment that there was a loud bang. Troy's head shot up, staring past Gabriella just in time to see her balcony doors shatter.

------

**I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, but I think it's only fair to say that I'm attempting to partake in National Novel-Writing Month, and I intend to either start a new story or write a **_**lot **_**of this one. I probably will start anew, because I'm trying to write an original work.**


	16. Baby I've Been Waiting

A/N: So... I started out writing this, and it didn't take long to realize that it was going to have to be split up into two chapters, and that the second of the two chapters was the one with the most work done... so I split up the chapters and keep on working, only to find that I'm going to have to make a split again - so here it is, the first part of a three-part chapter. I'm surprised it came out this long. I understand I've been woefully slow at updating - but I have two chapters halfway done so that's good. I will try to write as much as I can, but I'm hanging out with friends tomorrow (as I have been EVERY DAY so far this vacation). Since when do I have a social life? Jeesh. Then it's TOTALLY cleaning my room and studying for my permit test (uh-oh). So, yeah, I'm doing my best, I swear.

This is dedicated to everyone who saw Twilight the movie on opening day, like I did (I love teachers who don't give exams, and therefore allow me to go to the movies instead of to school).

**Chapter 15: Baby I've Been Waiting**

_I've been asleep for a while now  
You tucked me in just like a child now  
Cause every time you hold me in your arms  
I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth_

_It starts in my soul  
And I lose all control  
When you kiss my nose  
The feeling shows  
Cause you make me smile  
Baby just take your time now  
Holding me tight_

_- Bubbly, Colbie Caillat_

Troy didn't even think about it, which was perhaps what made his reaction so amazing. Because as soon as Troy heard the earsplitting crash, and saw the chunks of glass flying towards him and Gabriella, he immediately swung them around, so that his back was facing the oncoming glass, and also so that he was shielding Gabriella. The abrupt movement made them both lose balance, and Gabriella fell backwards, dragging Troy with her.

He panicked for a moment, fully aware he was about to fall on top of her, and hastily put his arms out to catch himself. He was able to support himself in the push-up position for a couple of seconds, until he was sure the glass had already fallen. Then, he hastily pushed himself off of Gabriella, rolling onto his back so that she was next to him.

This didn't have the result of relief he had been hoping for. Instead, pinpricks of pain dotted his back, and he belatedly realized that there were probably lots of shards of glass either on his back or on the floor that were pushed into his skin as he rolled onto the floor. Not his best decision, Troy decided.

He groaned loudly before turning on his side, facing Gabriella, and asking her urgently, "Are you okay?"

Wrong question to ask, apparently, because Gabriella just started to cry harder. Troy was horrified at first, not sure whether he should comfort her or if she would just get angrier. This was answered a second later when she turned and buried her head into his chest, trying to muffle her sobs.

Troy wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the pinpricks of pain on his back – they didn't hurt that badly anyways – and whispered soothingly into her ear, "Shh, it's okay, Gabi. You're okay…"

It was kind of scary, Troy reflected; he had never seen Gabriella cry before that night, and at that moment he wasn't sure if it was because of the shock of the door shattering or because of him. Either way, she was looking to him for comfort, and Troy was going to give it to her.

If one thing could be about Gabriella, it was that she didn't cry for long. It seemed to Troy that as soon as he had wrapped his arms around her, she was pulling away again, wiping her eyes and saying through her tears, "God, that was scary." She laughed slightly, still a bit shaky.

"That was really, really scary," Troy agreed, taking a deep breath to try and steady his racing heart. "You're not hurt?"

She shook her head as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and asked, sniffling, "Are-are you okay? You just completely blocked me…" Her lips quirked upwards a bit to form a small smile. "You _protected _me."

"I love you," he told her matter-of-factly, and she blushed slightly. "I wasn't going to let you get impaled by glass."

He glanced towards the doors. Was there a chance that whoever committed the crime hadn't gotten away yet? He had to find out. Troy realized he had wasted precious seconds comforting Gabriella, giving the vandals time to escape. But what else was he supposed to do? Gabriella always came first.

Troy looked down at Gabriella, putting a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. She nodded and watched as he silently stood up and darted towards what once was Gabriella's balcony door. He peered out into the darkness, eyes narrowed as he tried to look for any movement, anything that might betray where a person was hiding.

Nothing.

Sighing, Troy was about to turn away when something caught the corner of his eye. A DVD case. It was white, with no label. Curious despite himself, he bent down and picked it up before shutting the curtains and turning around. He walked back towards Gabriella, tossing the DVD case halfheartedly onto the bed. They'd deal with it later. Careful of the glass, Troy made his way over to Gabriella, who had turned her head up to the ceiling, and from what Troy could see she hadn't moved from that position.

He knelt down next to her and asked, "Gabi, are you sure you're alright?"

"My balcony door broke," she said weakly, turning her head slightly to look up at him, rather than the ceiling. "Like, shattered. What the heck do I do about that? Do I call someone, or clean it up myself? Do I tell Vincent? Who's going to replace it?"

"Relax," Troy responded soothingly, reaching down to run a hand through her hair. She shivered pleasantly at the tingling sensation his touch produced. "C'mon," he coaxed her, "It'll be fine. I'll just go and get the phone, and you can call your mom. She can tell you what you should do."

Troy glanced around and, spotting a phone sitting on Gabriella's desk, he stood up and walked over to grab it. He had only gotten two steps before he heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh my God, Troy, you're bleeding," Gabriella gasped, scrambling up off the floor and rushing over to him. Troy turned around.

"Careful," he warned her, "glass on the floor, remember?"

She didn't listen to him, and he noted that all she had was socks on her feet. Heaving a sigh as she approached him, Troy swiftly gathered into his arms and carried her bridal style onto her bed, where he gently let her down. There was a sharp pain in his back from the strain, but he ignored it.

"What was that for?" she exclaimed angrily, getting up on her knees and crossing her arms. Unrealized by both of them, the sharp movements on the bed from Troy putting Gabriella on it and then from Gabriella getting up caused the mattress to bounce… that is, bounce the DVD case right onto the ground.

"You don't have shoes on," he told her matter-of-factly.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Just count yourself lucky that I'm not kicking you out right now. Let me see your back. Take off your shirt."

"Gabi, I'm fine," Troy protested.

"Do it," she ordered him, giving him a glare he didn't dare refuse. His next retort dying on his lips, Troy somewhat huffily turned around and made to pull of his shirt, but Gabriella stopped him by cautioning, "Wait. There are pieces of glass basically imbedded in your skin."

"Yeah," Troy muttered to himself, "I'm starting to feel them." The pulsing pain made him wince, and he tried to roll his shoulder to get rid of the pain, but that just made it worse.

Gabriella must've seen him wince, because she decided, "We should take you to a hospital."

"No," Troy told her adamantly, turning around so that he was looking her straight in the eye. "No hospitals. Besides the fact that it's unnecessary, I can only imagine the problems we'd have to deal with. What would we say? 'Oh, a window shattered at the Montez's house, but just don't tell my parents that because they don't know that I'm secretly dating my "worst enemy's" sister.' That has "shrink" written all over it."

"Okay, good point. No hospitals." Gabriella spun Troy back around and narrowed her eyes at the wounds. Troy waited somewhat impatiently until finally she said, "They don't look that deep or anything. I could probably take them out."

"Do it," Troy agreed. He glanced around the room and added, "And then we can deal with the rest of this."

"Okay," Gabriella agreed. She examined his back before asking casually, "How'd you get in here anyways?"

"I climbed through a window."

Gabriella frowned, her brown furrowed in concentration as she pulled out a piece of glass. Her eyes keeping focused on the task at hand, she asked, "Really?"

"Yep," Troy said, inhaling sharply as Gabriella removed another piece of glass. "I just had to take out the screen and I was all set."

"Well," Gabriella said, taking out another shard, "you put the screen back, right?" Troy was quiet, and Gabriella sighed and asked, "Did you shut the window?" He was still quiet. Rolling her eyes, she muttered as she pulled out another small piece of glass that was imbedded slightly in Troy's skin, "Only a stupid, careless guy would leave a window with no screen open."

"Sorry," Troy mumbled a bit sheepishly, hearing Gabriella's disapproving tone. If she wasn't happy with him before, she certainly wasn't at the moment.

But to his surprise Gabriella put her hands on his shoulders, turning him gently around. Smiling up at him she added softly, "But you're my stupid, careless guy."

She knew she had said the right then when a hopeful smile spread across Troy's face, against his will. Even though he was obviously exuberant, he kept his voice carefully calm as he asked cautiously, "Does that mean you believe me?"

Gabriella slid her hands up his chest, up his neck, so that they tangled tantalizingly in his hair and leaned in, whispering, "I believe you." Then she gave him a soft kiss. Troy couldn't really describe the sensation he was feeling in the pit of his stomach and in his heart and, well, basically everywhere else in his body. All he knew was that it was what love felt like. He wrapped his arms around Gabriella's waist, and kept them there even when she pulled away from their small kiss.

"I love you," he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle her collarbone with his nose. He inhaled deeply, taking in the wonderful scent that only Gabriella had. "I don't care if you don't love me yet, or if you ever will. I just know I love you so, so much."

"You think I don't love you?" Gabriella asked, pulling back slightly with a slightly affronted look on her face, which was somewhat lessened by her surprise.

Troy looked up into her eyes and said sincerely, "I have no idea. But I just wanted you to know that I'm okay if you don't. You don't have to say it just because I did." He shrugged helplessly and added, "I know it hasn't been long, but I can't help it."

"Well, I do love you," Gabriella told him matter-of-factly. She looked him squarely in the eye as she said it, and then leaned forward, snuggling into his chest. She shivered in pleasure as his steady heartbeat thumped steadily in her ear. Troy wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, and Gabriella was sure that there wasn't anyplace better to be than in Troy's arms. "So there. I love you so much it hurts."

"I don't want it to hurt," Troy told her sincerely. One arm shifted as he stroked her hair tenderly. She snuggled closer to him. "I never want to hurt you again."

"I think I could deal with that," she giggled. Turning serious, she continued, "Now take off your shirt." At the surprised look on Troy's face she rolled her eyes and added, "So I can put some sort of ointment on your cuts."

"Oh," Troy laughed slightly and said, "I'll make you a deal. I will go and get the ointment and phone for you, and then you can nurse me all you want while you call your mom."

"Okay," Gabriella agreed. Subconsciously, she shivered from the cool air filtering into her room from her balcony door. Troy noticed, and decided to bring her a sweatshirt, too.

Five minutes later, he was back with Neosporin in one hand, a phone in the other, and a West High sweatshirt slung over his arm. Gabriella looked up from her lap as she sat cross-legged on her bed, just as Troy reached her.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes traveled up his bare stomach and chest, toned to perfection from hours of lifting weights and playing basketball under the summer sun. She felt that familiar feeling in between her legs, and tried to push those types of thoughts away as her eyes continued up past his defined chin, soft lips that were twitching upwards in a small smile, and then finally to his eyes, which were staring straight into hers. If the rest of Troy was simple because he was so utterly beautiful he had no flaws to dispute his perfection, his eyes were the complete opposite. This wasn't because they weren't as beautiful as the rest of him – without a doubt, Troy's eyes were equal to the rest of his features when it came to magnificence.

His eyes, though, had so many feelings crammed into such a small space, it was hard to decipher his feelings. At least, Gabriella, reflected, she could read them at all. When she had first met Troy, his eyes had been kind of scary – not because they had evilness in them or anything, but because they had nothing in them. Gradually, however, as Troy opened up his eyes did, too, and the blankness faded away. Gabriella wasn't even sure if he noticed it, or not, but she certainly did.

And as she looked into his eyes at that moment, she saw such raw feelings that it was sort of startling. There was happiness and passion and… love? Gabriella had seen that look in his eyes before, but she had never really known what it was. That was what it had to be though – love. Was it possible that he had loved her before he had told her?

She felt goose bumps all over her skin, and Troy must've noticed because he handed over the sweatshirt before he did the other two items, holding them for her as she slipped the sweatshirt over her head. Smiling widely up at him, she said, "Thanks."

Troy stepped as close to the bed as possible, and they were both so preoccupied with one another that neither of them noticed Troy ally kick the DVD case under the bed. "Not a problem," he told her sincerely, reaching out to run his hand down her arm until their hands were intertwined. It was like he couldn't bear to not be touching her, and Gabriella liked it.

Gabriella put the phone down on the bed next to her, deciding it would be better to take care of Troy first. Besides, she didn't really want to call her mom. She wouldn't have any idea where to start. She waited for Troy to turn around, but he didn't. Her smile faded in confusion.

"Call," he told her sternly. She hesitated, looking at the phone before returning her gaze to his eyes and asking, "What do I say?"

Troy thought about to for a moment before deciding, "Say that you came into your room and the window was broken – tell her that you didn't see anyone." He shrugged. "You're balcony door shattered; you're allowed to be a bit confused."

Gabriella giggled, and before she could second guess herself she dialed her mother's cell phone number.

------

" Fuck."

"Yeah," Alejandro agreed breathlessly.

" Fuck," Spencer repeated in a dumbfounded voice as he sat slumped against a tree. He stared ahead, unseeingly into the darkness surrounding them.

"I got it," Alejandro snapped. "That wasn't good. It didn't exactly go as planned. Can we get over it?"

" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…"

Alejandro turned to face Spencer and gave him one long look before slapping him across the face. Spencer's head whipped to the side. Immediately he turned to face Alejandro again, a look of shock on his face. "What was that for?" he asked indignantly.

"You were freaking out," Alejandro informed him coolly. "That's the last thing we need right now."

"I broke a window!" Spencer exclaimed in disbelief. "I sent thousands of shards of glass flying towards one of my best friend's sister. I'm allowed to freak out."

"I'm sure no one was hurt," Alejandro told him as soothingly as he could. "And we left the DVD there, so I'd say it's a mission accomplished." He gave Spencer one last look before adding, "I'd advise you not to throw rocks at a 's window again though. It's only a romantic gesture when you _don't_ break the window."

"They were just normal rocks! How the hell did an entire door break?" Spencer moaned, putting his head in his hands.

Alejandro shrugged and contemplated this before saying slowly, "Well, maybe you were supposed to use pebbles, not rocks. And you did use a handful. They generally only use one rock at a time when throwing them at windows in movies." He cast Spencer an amused look. "Now we know why."

"You think?" Spencer asked sarcastically. He grabbed a small rock from next to him and threw it angrily into the darkness, laughing bitterly as a second later he realized the irony.

Alejandro glanced towards him before asking casually, "So, how long have you liked Gabriella Montez for?" Her full name sounded strange on his lips, but it felt wrong to call her just "Gabriella", and Montez was her brother.

Spencer's shock radiated through the air. He looked at the younger boy with shock, and Alejandro just said calmly, "Don't try to hide it – why else would you help her? You want her to be happy, sure, but very few guys would go as far as you just did."

"Oh, so does that mean you love Bolton?" Spencer shot back with venom in his voice that did nothing but prove to Alejandro that his suspicions had been right.

He wasn't even fazed as he replied calmly, "No, I'm doing this purely because I was partly the cause of it, and I felt I should make it right. And, besides," he smiled widely. "That makes him happy. And a happy captain is better than a bitchy one. You're situation is different, and I think I deserve and explanation."

Knowing that he had been caught, Spencer shut his eyes tightly and sighed heavily. "It's been awhile, now," he admitted, looking Alejandro right in the eye and saying, "You won't tell anyone?"

"Who would I tell?" Alejandro said, shrugging. Realizing by Spencer's sharp look that he wasn't appeased, he added with exasperation, "You're secret's safe with me."

"Whatever," Spencer grumbled and added resentfully, "How do you even know the DVD will work, anyways?"

"Sometimes," Alejandro responded calmly, "all you need is to have faith. You should try it sometime."

Spencer narrowed his eyes, but then decided that if having faith made Gabriella happy, he'd give it a shot.

------

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Troy asked soothingly, chuckling softly as he gently took the phone from Gabriella's hand as they walked down the upstairs hallways of the Montez house, hands intertwined and bodies as close together as possible.

She rolled her eyes, pushing open the door to her mother's room and exclaiming, "That's not funny, Troy. I'm pretty sure those window people were about ready to kill me for calling so late. I have no idea why my mom thought it was a good idea for me to do that!"

"But they're coming first thing in the morning," Troy pointed out, smiling as he watched Gabriella run over to her mother's bed at jump onto it, immediately snuggling into the pillows and blankets. "You should have your balcony doors back by noon."

"Good point," Gabriella conceded, watching as Troy examined her mother's room. He frowned, somewhat surprised by how normal it looked. As many times as he had been over her house, Troy had never seen Coach Montez's room. He had never really thought about how it would look, but he was nevertheless surprised at how cozy it was. The room was big, and all soft neutral colors, with some darker brown mixed in. The bed was big, and he could see a walk-in closet and an attached bathroom.

His wandering eyes returned to Gabriella's form as she asked, "How's your back?"

"It's all better now," Troy told her, taking a few steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him. Just seeing her lying on the bed like that made his throat tighten and the room seemingly rise twenty degrees.

Troy reached the bed, tentatively looking down at it before climbing on. He reminded Gabriella somewhat of a lion or another sort of cat as he crawled across it until he was looming over her still form. Her breath caught in her through, at him being so close to her. Gabriella could feel his heat radiating from Troy's body, and as she absent-mindedly reached a hand up to play with the hem of his shirt, she thought lazily that Troy's body would be the only blanket she'd need ever again.

He loomed over her, careful not to crush her body by supporting himself with one forearm. "So you're mom won't be home until tomorrow?" As he spoke, he reached his free arm to gently brush her hair away from her face, twirling a few locks in-between his fingers absent-mindedly.

"Yeah, she said I should sleep in here," Gabriella confirmed. Suddenly breathless, she told him in a significantly softer voice, "You can stay, too."

"Can I?" he asked softly, bending his head lower and lower over hers, so that she knew he was about to kiss her. She trembled at his hot breath on her face, and felt that familiar fire between her legs as he intentionally rolled his hips down so that their pelvises met. She squirmed, feeling Troy harden even as they laid there. He chuckled softly, every one of his actions suddenly sensual and arousing.

She nodded mutely, and as soon as Troy saw this he captured her lips with his with a firework-inducing passion. She arched into him as his tongue wasted no time in sliding its way into her mouth, and Gabriella didn't hesitate to follow his lead. As their lips moved in sync with each other, Gabriella felt Troy's hands run up her sides, pulling her shirt up with it. Her hands eagerly replied, inching his shirt up his chest, running her hands sensually over his contracting muscles in the process. Gabriella rolled her hips up to press up against his, and smiled as she felt how rock hard he was.

Troy broke away from their kiss so that Gabriella could pull his shirt over his head. She threw it across the room without a care, and he shook his head to try and get his mussed up hair back to its previous look. He was about to capture their lips together again when he suddenly pulled back with a pained look on his face and asked, his voice strained, "What – what about the sheets?"

Gabriella groaned in annoyance, because she knew just as well as Troy did that they couldn't get her mom's sheets dirty. She glanced around for inspiration, a smirk coming onto her face as she laid eyes on the bathroom.

She snaked her body out from underneath Troy's, climbing off of the bed and pulling Troy with her. He followed a bit confusedly, but Gabriella didn't tell him anything until she had pushed the bathroom door open, reached into the shower, and turned the water on.

It was then that Gabriella turned to face Troy. Realization had spread across his face, and he looked a bit in awe as he asked, "You serious?"

Giggling, Gabriella nodded, not sure what Troy was thinking. A smirk spreading across his elated face, Troy pressed his body up against hers and pressed their lips passionately together again.

"You," he murmured huskily as they broke apart so that Troy could pull her shirt over her head with surprising tenderness, "are amazing."

Gabriella's response was to teasingly unbutton his jeans, and slowly ease down the zipper. Troy grunted, his hands quickening as they hastily tugged her sweatpants down her legs. As soon as she stepped out of them, he spun them around and lifted Gabriella up onto the counter. She gasped in surprise, and it transformed into a moan as Troy kissed down from her mouth down her neck to her chest, his hands fumbling only slightly as he took off her bra.

The bathroom was quickly heating up until steam filled the air. It surrounded Troy and Gabriella, just adding to the mood. Because of Troy's ministrations, it took Gabriella longer than usual to reach her destination, but it was well worth it to hear Troy's moan as she took him into her hands.

His hands dropped from her chest, settling on her waist as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. She felt his hot breath on her skin, and shivered with pleasure as he pressed his bare, sweaty chest against hers. She massaged him gently, and then quicker and quicker until Troy thought he was going to burst. With her other hand, she slowly pulled his jeans down to his ankles.

Overcome by pleasure, he had no idea how his hands managed to find their way to her thighs, and slowly knead their way up until they were stroking her through her underwear.

He heard her whimper his name as she rocked against him as hard as she could. It sent violent shivers down his spine, and his hand subconsciously quickened until he was yanking her off of the counter, stepping out of his jeans as he did so. Spinning her around so that he was leaning her against the wall next to the shower, he hooked his on either side of her underwear and started to pull it down at a tantalizing slow pace as he sensually traced kisses down her neck to her . Gabriella whimpered, and Troy smiled against her skin, loving the reactions he got from her.

Then Troy was the one reacting as Gabriella pulled down his boxers. He groaned, stumbling out of them as she returned to her previous activities. Panting, Troy could only stand their, disoriented, for a second, before he murmured into Gabriella's ear, "Your distracting me."

She shivered, reaching up to pull his head down so that their lips met in yet another heated kiss as they moved as one into the shower.

------

"What the hell is that boy playing at?"

"Maybe he decided you're plan was certifiably insane and ran for it while he could."

Sharpay glowered at her brother. "Zeke," she snapped. "_Not_ funny."

Zeke begged to differ, but he decided not to mention this lest his friend's fury be redirected for him. As it is, a smile tugged at his lips and he had to take a swig of his beer to cover it. Sharpay didn't notice – she was too busy pacing in front of him.

"Baby," he said soothingly, finally putting the bottle aside and climbing off of her bed to wrap his arms around her and calm her, "it's fine, really. I'm sure that Alejandro's going to call any second."

"He better," Sharpay muttered darkly, but she didn't pull away from her boyfriend. Instead, she seemed to sort of melt into him, relaxing as she let their bodies meld together.

This was what Zeke liked the most about Sharpay – this completely different side of her that was mellow and relaxed. He had only seen it a few times, but it was well worth the wait, in his opinion.

Finally, sensing the moment coming to an end, he asked gently, "Why did you send him off to follow Troy, anyways?"

"Because," Sharpay said matter-of-factly, pulling away slightly and looking up at him, "I need to find out – and since it's obvious Troy's not going to tell me what's up with him, I'm going to find out another way."

Zeke nodded, not really understanding and knowing he never would. Sharpay and Troy didn't exactly have a normal relationship by anyone's standards.

Sharpay jumped as she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. Taking it out, she scowled as she stared down at the short text message. Zeke hesitated before curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "What?"

She turned her phone's screen to face Zeke, so that he could see the message Alejandro had sent. _Didn't find anything._

"That's it?" Zeke asked, incredulous.

Sharpay's scowl deepened, and she resumed her pacing as she told him, "He definitely found something. But either it's bad enough he won't tell me, or Troy caught him and made him promise." She groaned, throwing herself onto the bed and complaining, "I just lost a comrade."

Zeke walked over to the bed, sitting down next to her, leaning down, and whispering softly into her ear, "Do you need me to make you feel better?"

"Mhmm," Sharpay murmured, shutting her eyes and leaning in to give Zeke a long kiss.

------

Gabriella wasn't sure how she and Troy made it to her mother's bed, but somehow they did because the next thing she knew, Troy was on top of her again, his hands were massaging her slowly higher and higher up her thighs until he was stroking her again.

"Troy, I don't think I can do any more," Gabriella told him sleepily, her eyes drooping.

"Shh," he told her tenderly, nibbling her ear. "You don't have to do anything."

Her eyes opened. "What do you –" she let out a long moan as his fingers started to get more confident.

"The sheets…" she gasped breathlessly.

"I'll clean _everything_ up," he murmured ally into her ear.

And Gabriella gave in, allowing Troy to kiss his way painfully slowly down to her core, gently licking and sucking until she was whimpering his name. He was slow and tender, carefully bringing her to a peak so intense that stars clouded her vision, and afterwards she just lay there, panting and reveling in the sensations she had just experienced. Troy slowly slid his body back up hers, kissing all over her face and jaw and shoulders murmuring every now and again that he loved her, as if she could ever forget.

She sighed, snuggling closer to Troy even as he gently untangled himself from her.

"Don't go," Gabriella whispered, tightening her hold.

"Shh," he calmed her, carefully loosening himself from her grip. "I'll be right back."

Troy got out of the bed carefully, going into the bathroom to grab the clothes scattered on the floor and a towel. Wrapping the towel around himself and holding the clothes in his hands, he slowly opened the door that led into the hallway, peeking outside to make sure the house was still empty.

It was. Nevertheless, Troy walked swiftly back to Gabriella's room, immediately going to the bottom drawer of her bureau and pulling out a pair of boxers and a shirt – he was now incessantly thankful for all of the times he had been forced to change at her house, resulting in the bottom drawer of her bureau being set aside for all of his stuff. He put on the boxers, but left off the shirt. He shivered slightly – the room was freezing, no doubt because of the cold night air filtering in.

His next move was to grab clothes for Gabriella – underwear, a cami, and pajama shorts. He was back by Gabriella's side in less than five minutes, telling her softly, in case she was sleeping, "I have clothes for you." She moaned in protest, and he chuckled before adding, "I don't think it would be a good idea if Vincent came in here to see you with no clothes on." Another thought entered his mind and he growled, "Or his _friends_."

Gabriella noticed the way he spat out the last words repulsively and smiled slightly as she sat up tiredly and put on the clothes. "Is someone feeling protective?"

"It's hard not to when no one knows that you're taken," he defended himself slightly, dropping the shirt and towel by the side of the bed he was sleeping on for the morning. He climbed onto the bed, slipping under the covers and waiting until Gabriella did, too, before lying down and wrapping his arms protectively around her.

"No one notices me anyways," she promised him, snuggling closer to him and resting her head in the nook at his shoulder.

Troy strongly doubted that, but decided not to fight it and instead just remained silent for a long time. Finally, he said, his voice a bit scratchy, "I might leave before you get up in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Gabriella said, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "Do you need an alarm clock?"

"No, I'll be okay," Troy assured her, deciding not to mention how he always woke up insanely early unless he was sleeping in his own bed. It was something about comfort and familiarity, he supposed, and he didn't want Gabriella to feel bad. He stroked her hair slowly and whispered, "I love you."

She felt the sides of her lips tug upwards into a smile, and she was too tired to try and hide it. "I love you, too."

"I like it when you say that," he told her honestly, smiling, too.

"Good, because I'm not going to stop anytime soon."

_I don't think I'm ever going to stop_, he thought silently, but all he said out loud was, "Me, too."

There was another bout of silence that lasted for so long that Troy believed Gabriella to be asleep, and was about to drift off as well. His eyes were drooping, and he was starting to see double; then the musical sound of Gabriella's voice reached his ears.

"Troy?"

"Hmm?"

"Which window?"

Troy groaned, about to get up again, but decided against it and promised, "I'll get it in the morning."

------

_This is just plain cruel_, Troy thought to himself as he watched the time on the digital clock change from 6:06 AM to 6:07 AM. He had been up all of ten minutes or so, and had fully intended to get up and leave quickly before Vincent or Coach Montez woke up, or arrived home, or whatever it was they were sure to do any moment.

That plan had been shot to hell the moment that he had looked down at Gabriella. Was it possible for someone to look so breathtakingly beautiful? It should be illegal, was his first thought. Her face looked so peaceful and angelic, and her hair framed her face perfectly in little ringlets. She was curled up close to him, one hand draped over his chest. The covers were pulled up covering most of her body, and the parts that weren't concealed by them _were_ hidden by the tee shirt she wore.

Troy sighed.

It would be really nice, he thought randomly, if he had his own place to stay. That way he could sleep with Gabriella every night, and they could stay in bed together for as long as they wanted. They wouldn't have to worry about mothers or brothers or anything like that.

His second random thought was that his first idea had sounded suspiciously like he wanted to live with Gabriella. _Okay, definitely time to get up now._

Troy gently detached himself from Gabriella. She stirred only once, eyes drifting lazily open, but they drooped back shut as soon as he assured her softly that everything was okay.

It was a matter of minutes until Troy had managed to get his clothes back on and reach his car – or, more precisely, his mother's car. That hadn't been his smartest idea, he thought wryly. Hopefully his parents hadn't noticed, although the chances of that were slim to none.

Oh well, there was nothing to be done about it now, so he shrugged it off and drove home.

When he reached his house, he got out of his mom's car and approached the front door. He opened it quietly, wincing at the squeaks the hinges made, before carefully walking in and shutting the door behind him at the same slow pace he had used when opening it.

It was all to no avail, Troy belatedly realized as he walked into the kitchen, only to find his father already there, dressed in khakis and a golf shirt.

"Troy," he asked, looking up after pouring a cup of coffee. He looked surprised, then stern as he said, "Where were you last night? You know you're supposed to call us if you're going to sleep over someone's house. And why did you take your mother's car?"

"Sorry," Troy told him, and he could see his dad visibly start at the sincerity in Troy's voice. Damn, Gabriella really was changing him. "I couldn't find my keys. And I was at Jason's house, I figured it was okay." He also figured that Jason would be too hung over to remember if Troy had slept over his house or not.

Coach Bolton nodded, asking, "Coffee?"

Troy nodded, wordlessly grabbing a cup from the cabinet and joining his father at the coffeemaker, asking casually, "Where are you going?"

"Lava Springs – Mr. Evans was kind enough to let us use the space for free for teachers meetings," he said, pouring cream into his cup and stirring. Troy took the cream after him as the older Bolton continued, "First the entire history department is meeting to greet our new members and discuss the plans for the year. Then I think I'm meeting with the other coaches."

"When are you leaving?" Troy asked, putting two spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee and taking a long sip. It was hot, but he needed the wakeup call.

Coach Bolton checked his watch and said, "Ten minutes, maybe."

"I'm coming," Troy told him. At his father's startled look, he added, "I'll just play basketball or whatever until Shar wakes up. I could call Chad or Zeke."

As always, the mention of basketball appeased his father, and he said, "Okay, then, sounds good." Troy nodded, mentally wondering if he had any exercise clothes at Shar's house. Usually he did, but it was hard to tell nowadays, what with all of the time he was spending with Gabriella. He figured he had something – and if not, well, what else was Ryan for?

Troy rubbed his eyes tiredly. Basketball – just what he needed to wake up, right? He tried to push the alluring thoughts of massages and saunas and hot tubs out of his mind. The Lava Springs spa wouldn't be a good idea, if only because Sharpay would be more suspicious than ever.

Why did he pick smart friends again?

-----

"Gabs, you okay? You look exhausted."

"Yeah," Gabriella replied, forcing a smile onto her face and resisting the urge to yawn. "I'm fine – I was just out late, that's all."

"Me, too," Vincent agreed, laughing. He looked down at his plate of chocolate chip pancakes drowned in syrup and took another bite. Gabriella's smile faded, and she checked her watch. It was only ten, so she guessed that Taylor would be on her way, soon. When Gabriella had agreed to hang out with Taylor the night before, she hadn't considered that she would be exhausted from a night of small stretches of slumber interrupted at random intervals by passionate .

All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, but she would feel lonely in her mother's bed all alone, and the workers were still in her room working on replacing the window.

There was a particularly loud thumb from the direction of Gabriella's bedroom, and both siblings jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. Vincent, who had been about to take a sip of his chocolate milk, narrowly missed splashing it all over himself.

"Jeez," he mumbled. A bit louder, he asked, "Are you sure I can't call the police?"

"Seriously," Gabriella assured him, "it's fine." _The last thing I need is to have to lie to a police officer about what happened_, she added silently. She could imagine it clear as day, her trying to look casual and convincing as she promised the police officer filing the report that no, there was no one with her.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Glad for the excuse to get up, Gabriella said quickly, "That's Taylor."

It wasn't Taylor, she realized as she opened the door. It was Spencer, looking rather worse for wear. He looked exhausted – eyes drooping and with bags under them. His hair was messier than his usual bed-head hair (Gabriella would know what that looked like, because it wasn't like he even owned a comb), and there were several small cuts and scraps along his arms.

Spencer, she realized immediately, was not expecting her to open the door. He jumped slightly when he saw her, and shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous.

Gabriella raised an eyebrow, asking lightly, trying to get him to loosen up, "Hey, what happened to you? You look like you were staking out in the woods all night."

He laughed nervously – Gabriella frowned, unable to find anything comical about the situation – and replied, "Hey, Gabs, is Vincent here?"

She gave him a long look, wondering why he was acting so strange. Did he think she was mad at him? Did he know about her and Troy? White-hot panic filled her for a second, but in the next she dismissed the very idea. If anyone were to find out about her and Troy, it wouldn't be Spencer Gates.

"Um, yeah," she told him slowly. She stepped back, letting him through the door as she said, "He's in the kitchen."

"Cool," Spencer said, forcing a smile onto his face. Gabriella just nodded, stifling a yawn as she shut the door and then followed him into the kitchen.

"Taylor, huh?" Vincent asked jokingly, raising an eyebrow. Gabriella rolled her eyes and yawned again. Another loud bang was heard from above them, and Vincent swore, explaining to Spencer, "Someone broke Gabs' balcony door last night – Completely shattered it. They're replacing it right now, and are being pretty damn loud about it."

Spencer paled slightly, and another thought entered Gabriella's mind. Was he jumpy because he had broken the window? She pushed that away, too. Spencer was way too nice to do that. He confirmed this by turning to her and asking with what sounded like genuine concern, "What happened? Do you know who did it? Were you hurt, or anything?"

Gabriella shook her head. "I wasn't hurt," she explained, her thoughts unwillingly traveling to Troy. She shrugged and added, "I don't know who did it – it was probably just an , though. I wouldn't worry about it."

There was a bit of an awkward silence as Vincent ate his waffles, and Spencer looked anywhere but at Gabriella. What was up with him, anyways?

She was about to mull on Spencer's strange behavior a bit more, but then the doorbell rang, and it was Taylor, so instead Gabriella listened to Taylor's romantic evening and silently bragged about how hers was better.

------

Review please!! And I'll try to get back to you - I'm working on going back to the respond-to-every-review thing


	17. Friendships Aplenty

**Chapter 16:**

_We were just wasting time  
Let the hours roll by  
Doing nothing for the fun  
A little taste of the good life  
Whether right or wrong  
Makes us want to stay, stay, stay for awhile_

_- Stay (Wasting Time), Dave Matthews Band_

"Troy, you're scaring me."

Troy sighed, not even bothering to look over at Sharpay as he dribbled past an invisible opponent on the Lava Springs basketball court and took a shot, which was a perfect swish. A serge of victory flowed through his veins, but he controlled it as he told Sharpay with a sort of calmness that surprised even himself, "I'm not scaring you, Sharpay – I'm just playing basketball."

"Therein lies the problem."

The sound of a sliding glass door was heard as Chad Danforth walked out of the house, two water bottles in his hands. Picking up his pace into a leisurely jog, he tossed one water bottle to Troy before telling Sharpay, "Right, because God forbid a basketball player actually plays basketball."

Sharpay wrinkled her nose as she watched Chad squirt some water into his mouth, some of it dribbling down his chin. Sighing, she countered, "For four hours. You've been playing for four hours."

"Correction: _I've_ been playing for four hours," Troy informed her. "Chad's only been here for two."

"Whatever, it's still scary. And you're _smiling_," She added, spitting out the word as if it were taboo. Troy was about to roll his eyes and retort that she was fabricating things, but then belatedly realized that he actually _was_ smiling.

"Maybe I feel like smiling," Troy countered, but he made sure that he kept a straight face from then on all the same. From her spot cross-legged on the grass, with a virgin strawberry daiquiri next to her, Sharpay rolled her eyes as she watched Troy pass the ball to Chad. By some telepathic male connection, they both seemed to silently come to a consensus to start a one-on-one game, because the next thing Sharpay knew she was watching two sweaty guys fight over a disgusting orange ball.

"Okay, I am officially sick of this," Sharpay announced after a grand total of five minutes, getting up and turning around. As she started to walk towards the doors that led inside, she told Chad and Troy, "I'm going to wake up Zeke, and then maybe we can go for a swim or something."

Troy shrugged and said, "Okay. The country club pool or your private one?"

"Well, it's Wednesday, right?"

Troy did the math in his head. His and Gabi's one-month had been the nineteenth, which was a Tuesday. The day after had been the fight, which meant it was a Thursday. He voiced this out loud, and Sharpay frowned, saying, "Oh, well, then the Lava Springs one. Our pool gets cleaned on Thursdays now."

"They switched it?" Troy asked, frowning. "Why? I liked Mondays better."

Sharpay shrugged and said, "Well, I'm off to wake up Zeke. You guys can find bathing suits, or whatever, once you're done."

She strutted off into the house, letting out a breath of satisfaction as the cool air surrounded her. Thank God for air conditioning. Giving herself a self-satisfied smile, she stalked off through the halls of Lava Springs, passing a few business rooms on her way. Sometimes, she absolutely hated having a house next to the country club her family owned. Other times, however, it came in handy – there was an extra pool, plenty of tennis courts, and it gave her a temporary escape from the heat, as Sharpay proved when she stalked through the lobby and out the front doors of the country club. Getting into her designated golf cart, Sharpay turned it on and set off. She turned left and drove across the grass towards the large mansion situated separately from the famous country club.

It didn't take Sharpay long to reach the house and make her way through the maze of hallways to her bedroom. She paused for a moment outside of the double doors, listening for sounds of movement coming from inside her room. Once determining that if Zeke was awake, he certainly wasn't moving, Sharpay carefully placed her hand on one of the doorknobs and turned it slowly. The door didn't even squeak as she inched it open and then shut it behind her.

After making sure it was safely shut, Sharpay slowly walked over to the bed.

She giggled slightly at the beyond-adorable sight of Zeke sprawled across her bed, sleeping soundly with the covers only covering his bare body up to his waist. Sharpay looked down at him endearingly for a moment before gently sitting on the bed beside him.

At the small movement, Zeke jerked awake, his eyes immediately falling on Sharpay.

"Sorry," she told him with a sincerely apologetic voice. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Zeke shook his head and then rubbed his eyes as he blearily asked, "Don't worry about it. How long have I been sleeping?"

"It's eleven," Sharpay told him, giggling.

He smiled sheepishly, shivering as she ran a hand down his arm. Reaching up and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Zeke asked, "Are you feeling better?"

Sharpay sighed. "Kind of – you helped." She was silent for a moment before complaining, "I just can't believe Troy won't tell me! And he's obviously got Alejandro on his side, because when I called him, he didn't tell me anything, and he was gone all night so he definitely knows something. And Troy's somehow keeping him silent." She sighed in frustration. "To top it all off, he is _happy_ today. And he keeps smiling, like he's taunting me."

At his girlfriend's last comment, he visibly stiffened and his voice got a bit harder as he said, "Oh. Troy's here, then?"

"And Chad," Sharpay added a bit defensively. "They've been obsessively playing basketball for awhile now. I think Troy came over with his dad, because the teachers had a meeting here or something."

Zeke nodded shortly, still rigid, and Sharpay sighed softly, asking, "Why don't you like him?"

"It's not that I don't like him," Zeke said, entwining Sharpay's hand with his. "But… he's a jerk, Shar. I don't get why you would want to be best friends with him. You could chose anyone, so why him?"

Sharpay shook her head and tried to explain, "Troy isn't like that with me. We've been best friends since kindergarten. That's not the type of friendship you choose – it's the type that finds you."

"But look what he's done," Zeke protested, shaking his head in disbelief. "Remember Katarina Hayes, who he framed in a drug bust because she claimed to sleep with him? And Zoey Lambert's in a convent now because Troy sent her parents pictures of her she had sent to one of her old boyfriends. How could he do that to them?"

Sharpay was silent for a second, looking down at the covers on her bed and picking at the stitching with her fingernails. Dread forming in the pit of his stomach, Zeke asked, "Sharpay?"

She looked up, their eyes met, and it was then that Zeke realized.

"I did those," she confessed, but by then he already knew. He inhaled and then exhaled deeply, unable to believe that his girlfriend had actually done such horrible things. She had ruined people's lives, for Christ's sake. Did she even feel bad about it?

As if answering all of Zeke's unasked questions, Sharpay explained, a bit defensively and also a little guiltily, "We're best friends, you know? We look out for each other. And it's more than him punching guys when they make fun of me, or whatever. Troy does so much for me, that when I saw how mad he was about the rumors, I knew I had to do something." She shook her head, looking down again. "I get that you don't understand. No one really could."

"Well, then why don't you tell me," Zeke challenged. "Maybe I'll understand more than you think."

Sharpay sighed, running a hand through Zeke's hair sensually. It took a few minutes of silence as she inwardly debated with herself, but finally she confessed, "When I was in seventh grade, I got my period for the first time. It was at school, and I was basically crying in the bathroom because I had no idea what to do. So I called Troy for help. He skipped class and ran all of the way to the general store; you know the one down the street from the middle school?" She giggled slightly as she continued, "When he came into the girls bathroom, he had a gigantic bag with at least five types of tampons and pads each, along with a few packages of girl's underwear. He held it out to me and said that he didn't know what I would like best."

"He seriously did that?" Zeke asked in disbelief.

"Mh-hm." Sharpay bit her lip as she nodded a bit childishly.

She continued, "And then, when we were, like, five or something, we both promised each other that when we had kids, he would name me the godmother, and I'd have him be the godfather. So when you first asked me out, and I was so happy that I called him squealing, he immediately came over with a box of condoms. He just tossed it on the bed and told me that he didn't want to become a godfather just yet."

Zeke was silent for a moment, unable to see the Troy he knew being like the Troy that Sharpay was best friends with. Sharpay waited with bated breath until Zeke looked down at her with a small smile, gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, and told her, "I get it."

"Really?" she asked hopefully, a smile lighting up her face.

Zeke nodded, adding, "I still kind of have a tough time with you guys being friends, but… I understand why you like him so much."

Sharpay giggled, pulling him up and exclaiming, "Great, now are you up for swimming?"

------

Taylor checked her watch, commenting, "We should probably get ready for work, you know. It's already eleven, and we have to be there by noon, right?"

"Wait, work?" Gabriella asked, frowning in confusion. Was she really working that day? It was a good thing Taylor was there, otherwise she would've completely forgotten about it.

Taylor gave her a 'you've got to be kidding me' look and responded, "Yes, we have work today. You know, that thing that you almost never do anymore?"

Gabriella opened her mouth to retort, but paused and snapped it shut again as she realized Taylor was right – lately she had been doing less and less hours working at the book store. It wasn't anything personal. Troy just took up so much of her time, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Right," she smiled weakly, avoiding the challenge in Taylor's voice. "Just let me take a shower and get dressed – I'll be quick, promise."

She got up, making for the bathroom as quickly as she could without making it obvious – this was a conversation she didn't want to have.

"Gabriella?" Taylor asks uncertainly, making Gabriella stop and turn around, dread in the pit of her stomach. "Is there something you want to tell me? I mean, you've been so, so… distant lately. I feel like we never hang out, and when we do you act weird. Are you hiding something?"

Gabriella looked at her friend, a look of shock mixed with a tad bit of hurt on her face. "Of course not."

It was only after she had said it that Gabriella had realized that she had lied - and without missing a beat. But, then, with a secret like hers, lying was instinct.

Taylor gave her a long look, but didn't say anything else.

------

"Man, it's fucking amazing that Sharpay got us these lockers, don't you think?" Chad said, pulling his key out of his pocket and fitting it into the keyhole of locker number eight. He loved that locker, if only because it was what inspired him to be jersey number eight, since the age of nine.

Lava Springs was easily the most luxurious country club in New Mexico, and the locker rooms didn't disappoint. There was the actual locker section, with lockers for members separated from those of people who just came for the day spa. The bathrooms were through a door in the back, and showers were right next to them. There was a sauna and hot tub through another door, and then a lounge through a door on the opposite side of the locker room. All of this was men-only, but if you were to go through either of the two doors in the lounge, you would either enter the co-ed day spa, or a hallway leading to the rest of the country club.

All of the decorations were plain, in typical male fashion. The two couches near the door that led to the lounge were leather, and all of the wood of the lockers and tables were a dark mahogany. The walls were painted a deep, neutral tan that reminded Troy of Coach Montez's room. Just thinking of the night before sent shivers down his spine, and he prayed to God that Chad didn't notice it.

"I guess so," Troy said, shrugging. His locker – number fourteen, of course – was already open. Clothes were folded neatly inside, and Troy vaguely wondered when he had ever folded them, but remembered that Sharpay usually had the cleaners do so at least once a week, otherwise all of his clothes would be wrinkled. He hated having someone in his personal things, but Sharpay didn't seem to care whether he told her to stop or not. Along with his standard tee shirts, shorts, and golf attire, there were golf shoes, sandals, sunglasses, and soap in case he decided to take a shower. It was rather comical, compared to Chad's basically empty locker.

Chad raised an eyebrow at the contents of Troy's locker, but had long since learned not to be surprised.

Ever since Troy was, say, ten, he had divided all of his clothes into three main locations. First, obviously, was his room, which was essentially unavoidable. Second, his lockers at school – when you spend five days a week at the place, it's hard to avoid having everything accumulate. Generally Troy's lockers were where he stuffed random articles of clothing that he didn't feel like bringing home. Naturally, this led to a rather dismal end-of-year cleanout. The third place was Sharpay's house. Whether it was in his locker at Lava Springs, somewhere in her room, or in a guest room, Troy always seemed to have random stuff lying around, as if it were his own house.

Everything was perfectly balanced, until Troy started to date Gabriella. As you can see, he has this habit of transferring clothing to places he spends a lot of time at, which meant that one drawer of Gabriella's dresser was basically his clothes, mixed with some of Vincent's goodwill clothes that Gabriella had stolen for him. This spun everything out of balance, which would explain why there was no bathing suit in Troy's locker.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Where the hell's my swim suit?"

"I'm sure you have one somewhere in there," Chad said, brushing it off. "You have, like, five just for here."

"And yet none of them are in my locker," he mumbled under his breath, slamming it shut with more force than he intended.

"What about the house?" Chad suggested, peeling off his shorts and boxers to slide on his own swim suit.

Troy nodded mutely, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall before finally speaking, "I'll go find one – you can head out, if you want."

"Sure, man, I can get drinks. You want a Coke?"

"Yeah, and you better get Sharpay another strawberry daiquiri," Troy added as an after thought.

"Or else she'll flip shit," Chad agreed. "Good thinking."

Nodding absent-mindedly, Troy didn't bother to reply and instead just made his way out of the locker room.

Troy paused outside the door, debating whether to call Sharpay or not before his laziness got the better of him and he pulled out his phone. It rang four times before she picked up, breathlessly asking, "Yeah?"

"Hey, can you grab me a swim suit on your way out? I can't find one," Troy said. As he walked down the hallway filled with meeting rooms, passing quite a few people along the way, he noticed they were all giving him condescending looks. Glancing down at his basketball shorts and sleeveless Wildcats tee shirt, he added into the phone, "I'm kind of underdressed."

"Agreed; sweaty, messy, badly-dressed boys aren't really Lava Springs material. Could you just take one of Ryan's?"

"Could you just get me one?"

Sharpay huffed. "Well someone's in a bad mood. Besides, why don't you have one in your locker? You usually have five, at least."

Troy reached the end of the hallway, and quickly made a turn into the section where business meeting rooms were – those hallways were generally deserted because everyone was always in the rooms, not just standing outside them. "Sharpay," he snapped, "can you just get me a damn swimsuit?"

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him, and Troy spun around, barking impatiently, "What?"

It was a middle-aged man, with a suit on and glasses. His hair was curly and blond, and Troy thought he looked like one of those people that was a science geek as a kid. He was shifting uncomfortably from side to side, and visibly jumped in surprise at Troy's venomous voice. Seeing the man, who was clearly not a threat, Troy's face relaxed a little. Gabi, he thought, would be yelling at me right now for being so rude.

"Excuse me?" Sharpay asked, highly affronted.

Troy's focus returned to his phone as he said into it, "Not you, the guy standing in front of me. Look, I have to go, can you just get me one, please?"

There was a long silence, and Troy felt a scowl coming onto his face as Sharpay didn't respond. Was she _trying_ to test his patience?

"Troy," she asked slowly, her voice so utterly gob smacked that Troy wondered if she had walked into a closet and found at a dead body, or something. It was nothing of the sort, he found out, when she continued, "did you just say… _please_?"

"Is that a problem?" he retorted. In his mind, he was saying a thousand curses. How could he have been so _stupid_? No wonder Sharpay had freaked out, Troy never said please, ever. And it had just come out.

"Are you sick, or something?" Sharpay asked, and then started to ramble, "Oh my, God, that's it. You're sick, aren't you?"

Troy rubbed the back of his neck, shutting his eyes to avoid looking at the guy that was just sort of standing there awkwardly in front of him, shifting from side to side. Couldn't he just go away? "I don't have time for this. The swimsuit?"

"Um," Sharpay seemed disoriented. "Okay, sure."

Thinking he was safe now, Troy hung up his phone and focused on the man again. "You need something?" he asked coolly.

The man grinned sheepishly and asked, "You look busy, but could you maybe direct me to where the East High teachers are meeting?"

Troy frowned, checking his watch before saying, "Well, besides the fact that you're more than four hours late, do you know what room?"

The man shook his head and said, "I don't know what room, but I'm pretty sure it starts at 11:30."

"Oh," Troy said, nodding, "you're new then, right? What are you teaching?"

"Junior and senior history classes," the man said, looking a bit more professional.

Troy nodded slowly, mulling this over before saying casually, "Yeah, I was in there this morning. You can just follow me."

"Oh, do you work here?" the man asked.

Troy could tell that he was trying to make polite conversation, but he just said curtly, "No, my dad's a teacher, and I'm just hanging out here with a few friends."

"Oh." There was another moment of silence as they turned another corner, and the man added, "I'm Mr. Coleridge, by the way."

"Troy Bolton," Troy offered grudgingly, knocking twice on the door he had seen his father in just that morning and opening the door, walking through and then holding it for the bumbling teacher to follow.

The history department was made up of about fifteen teachers, all of whom looked up in alarm as the door opened. They were sitting at a long, rectangular conference table, and several had to turn around in order to see who was at the door.

Troy eyes immediately sought out his father, whose face flushed at seeing that his son was the interruption. He cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "Troy, I thought you were going to play basketball with Sharpay?"

"Sharpay doesn't play basketball," Troy said flatly, avoiding the question. Everyone was silent, waiting for more, but he remained as silent as everyone else.

"That would actually be my fault," Mr. Coleridge said, finally breaking the awkwardness. He stepped out from behind Troy and explained, "I'm Gregory Coleridge, and I was told to come here for a meeting. Troy, here, was kind enough to show me the way."

He flashed a grin at Troy, but he remained as emotionless as before. Coach Bolton seemed very relieved by this, to put it lightly. He immediately loosened up, grinning widely. He looked ready to say something, no doubt words of welcome, but never actually got to because someone spoke faster.

"Erm, Troy?" a voice spoke from the doorway. Troy turned around, unaware of the fact that everyone else's gases followed the sound as well.

"Oh," he said, spotting the nervous-looking employee hovering at the door, a swimsuit in one hand and a water bottle in the second. "Phil, right, from JV basketball? I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, um," he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot before finally tossing Troy the swimsuit. He caught it deftly, and then caught the water bottle that was thrown after that. "It was on Shar- um, I mean Miss Evans' orders. She said something along the lines of how you should find your own swimsuit next time, and that if you're going to try to play basketball to death in her backyard, you'd better hydrate yourself."

Troy laughed, which seemed to shock Phil a bit. Smirking, he replied, "That's to avoid a lawsuit, I' m sure."

Phil gave him a shaky smile, and Troy sighed, turning back to his father and the rest of the history teachers, he said, "I'll get going now. Dad, I'll probably just have one of Shar's drivers bring me home – or I can sleepover or something. I think Chad wants to have a bonfire."

"Ask Mr. or Mrs. Evans if that's okay," Coach Bolton told his son. "I don't want you intruding."

"Actually," Phil piped up. Troy looked towards him, inwardly a bit startled. He hadn't realized Phil was still there. "I don't think they'll mind at all. Mr. Evans looked ecstatic when he heard you were here."

"Well," Coach Bolton looked uncomfortable. "That's good."

Troy just turned to Mr. Coleridge and said with a nod of the head, "It was good to meet you."

"It was great meeting you, too, Troy. Hopefully you're one of my students – that way I'll have one friendly face." He had a big grin on his face and stuck out his hand, which Troy shook.

Troy was thankful to leave.

------

"Is anyone else hungry?"

"No," Troy responded with a yawn, shutting his eyes tighter and shifting slightly on his pool float. It was slightly uncomfortable, trying to relax when he was surrounded by a bunch of Lava Springs residents, as well as his friends. He much preferred the sereneness of the Evans' private pool, but wasn't about to complain.

"Aw, come on, man," Chad whined, and Troy could feel a jolt as Chad playfully pushed his float. One of his eyes peeked open, his mouth frowning as he then sat up slowly, stretching his now-sore muscles. Four hours of playing basketball and thinking of Gabriella after a night of fighting with her and then having make-up sex was tiring, to say the least. And that wasn't including the cuts made by the glass that were still on his back. Troy first focused on Chad's forlorn face, and was only tempted to go with him to eat after he glanced around and saw all of the rather annoying people.

"Maybe," he amended slowly, still considering as he dove off of the float and swam towards the edge of the pool. He was in the deep end, but that didn't stop him from lifting himself out of the pool using his rather defined arm muscles. Troy was hardly aware of the two separate groups of girls staring at him as he walked over to where Sharpay and Zeke were cuddling.

As any best friend would in that situation, he whacked them with his towel before using it to dry himself off. Sharpay squealed, making a face and complaining, "God, Troy, you're such a moment-ruiner. Thank God you weren't around last night."

Zeke muffled a snigger, remembering just why he had even stayed over that night.

It didn't help much, because he was wearing a soaked tee shirt as well as his swimsuit in order to cover up his cuts from the night before. The minor pain was easy to ignore, but he didn't feel like asking questions, and no one dared to question him about the shirt. Tossing the towel onto an empty chair, he grabbed a dry shirt and carefully replaced the wet shirt with it, first ensuring that his back was facing a wall. "Speaking of…" Troy said, trailing off and looking pointedly between Sharpay and Zeke.

At Troy's inquisitive look, Sharpay responded to his unasked question, "Mommy and Daddy were out late – they didn't have time to come in and say goodnight after."

"Is your dad still here?" Troy asked. He was careful not to smile again, but Sharpay could still see how his eyes lit up, and there was a sort of renewed interest in his voice. Done changing his shirt, Troy tossed the wet one next to his used towel as he continued, "Do you think he has time for a round of golf?"

It was kind of sad, Sharpay reflected, that Troy was excited about golfing with her father, because she knew that if his own father offered, Troy would decline. She saw Troy detect the look of almost-pity on her face, and he rolled his eyes and said, "Come on, Shar, I like your dad." Turning his gaze to Chad, who had gotten out of the pool after Troy and was currently drying himself off, Troy asked, "Do you want to come, too?"

Shaking his head, Chad said, "No way in hell, man. You know I suck at golf." Directing his next comment towards Sharpay, he asked, "Do you think Ryan is up yet?"

"Probably," Sharpay said, checking her watch. "It's eleven, and that boy has a remarkable recovery period when it comes to hangovers."

"Cool," he said. Turning to Troy, he added, "Want to get something to eat? And if you go golfing, I can just find Ry."

"Fine," Troy agreed, slipping on his sandals and sunglasses as he asked Sharpay and Zeke, "You guys coming?"

"Sure," Sharpay responded flippantly.

"I'm starving," Zeke added, and Troy pointedly ignored him. He just followed Chad over to the more casual restaurant offered at the country club – the one that allowed for swimsuits and other more casual attire.

Sharpay and Zeke trailed behind, so they didn't hear Chad as he said to Troy, "Hey, man, thanks for last night, with Rebecca. She was_ hot_." He frowned when Troy clenched his fists and didn't answer.

With Sharpay with them, they didn't have any problem with getting a table, and soon were seated near a window overlooking the pool area.

"I don't like this menu as much as the other one," Sharpay complained, wrinkling her nose as she gazed down at the options of bland salads, hamburgers, and sandwiches. Troy looked down at his own menu, remaining silent. Personally, he didn't see what was so bad about it. He preferred simple things, easy food, and the options in front of him were looked good enough for his perspective.

"We can ask for a menu from one of the other restaurants," Zeke offered, just as Troy was about to tell Sharpay something along the lines of suck it up. He tried not to scoff at Zeke, who was just so nice and obliging that sometimes it drove Troy insane.

He looked up, and his eyes met with Sharpay's. She shut her menu with a snap, as if punctuating the statement she was trying to get across with her eyes. Troy's eyes bored into hers for a second, before he sighed slightly, glancing away. Troy always remembered his mother telling him that best friends were the ones you could have silent conversations with, and he decided there was some truth to it.

Chad, who was apparently more perceptive than Troy generally gave him credit for, cleared his throat and asked, "So, who do you think will make Varsity this year? We had, like, five seniors leave."

Troy looked back at Sharpay for one more second before letting go. He doubted he would ever agree with Sharpay about Zeke, unless Zeke suddenly managed to grow a backbone. Shifting slightly, he leaned forward and joined the conversation.

------

_Please, God, forgive me for doing this_, Gabriella thought silently to herself as she hovered uncertainly in the doorway of the kitchen. Her eyes were trained on her mother, whose head was bent over some sort of paperwork as she sipped a cup of coffee and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Coach Montez had only been home for a couple of hours, and already she was back to work, as if the reason she had been away hadn't been for work in the first place.

Gabriella checked her watch – Taylor was waiting in the car for her, and they were due at work soon. She didn't have a lot of time. Taking a deep breath, she casually walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom, what are you doing?"

Was her voice really as high as it sounded? Oh, God, usually she was a fantastic liar - usually, she didn't even bat an eyelash. But this was a bit different. She had never lied about something like _this_ before. It was kind of sad, Gabriella contemplated, that she could lie about talking to Troy on the phone, and about where she went at night, and things like that, but this made her all nervous. Before Troy, Gabriella would've never even considered doing what she was about to do. Seriously, Troy was such a bad influence on her. But even as she thought it the edges of her lips started to curl upwards.

_Stop it, Gabriella. Stop that now._

Coach Montez looked up. "Oh, nothing much, just work." She attempted a casual laugh. "Boring stuff."

"Oh."

There was a long pause in which Coach Montez worked, before Gabriella got up the courage to speak again.

"Mom, um, I was wondering…" she trailed off, and then it all came out in a rush, "Arcadia is on birth control to regulate her periods, and I was telling her about how mine are all over the place, and she said that maybe I should ask you if I could try it, too…"

Gabriella watched her mother cock her head to the side thoughtfully, and she felt herself turn red with embarrassment. Finally Couch Montez replied thoughtfully, "I suppose, my periods were always rather long and erratic, too… we can talk to a doctor about it, alright?"

"Okay, Mom, thanks," Gabriella said, smiling widely. "I have to go to work, bye!"

She darted out the kitchen door towards the front of the house.

As soon as she was out of sight, Gabriella let out a breath. She hated lying to her mom about something that big, but it was either that or say something along the lines of, _So, Mom, while I was having sex in your shower last night with my secret boyfriend, I almost forgot to use a condom. I think birth control might be a good idea._

Yes, lying was a much better idea.

------

"Jesus Christ, I ate a lot," Chad groaned, looking down at his three empty plates in mild surprise. Zeke snorted, and Sharpay playfully threw a napkin at him.

"Hey," she spoke up, her face brightening, "I know what we can do now – shop!"

"Ha, ha," Chad said dryly, "funny joke, Evans."

"That would be a no," Troy added, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if he could handle a shopping spree. As it was, his eyes were nearly drooping.

"Aw," Sharpay whined, her lower lip jutting out slightly in a well-practiced pout. "Come on, guys, I –" She broke off, suddenly jumping up and running past Troy, exclaiming, "Daddy!"

He turned around, a slight smile lighting his face as he saw Mr. Evans. He got up, walking over casually to where Sharpay was excitedly hugging and talking to her dad with Chad and Zeke following his lead behind him. Troy couldn't help but think that they looked like from a movie, with the leader in the front and the two cronies a few steps behind.

"Hey, Troy, I feel like I haven't seen you all summer," Mr. Evans said with a grin. He reached over and clapped Troy on the back before greeting Chad and Zeke with rather short hellos. Troy examined him – Mr. Evans was dressed in golfing gear by the looks of it, and this thought was solidified when Sharpay's dad turned back to Troy and said, "I'm heading over golfing with your dad and a few other people from the school, do you want to come along? I'm sure your dad would love it, and I haven't beaten you at golf in ages."

"That's because I always win," Troy smirked, but then added, "Sure, I'll come – Chad already said he's ditching me for Ryan."

"Great, I'll get you a set of clubs and everything while you get changed, sound good?"

"That's great."

"Wow, Troy, since when did we switch parents?"

Mr. Evans laughed and teased, "Would you like to go golfing, too, Shar?"

Sharpay wrinkled her nose and said, "Whatever, Zeke and I are going shopping – call me when you decide to stop playing sports, okay, Troy? I'm sick of watching you get sweaty. Contrary to popular belief, it's not that sexy."

"Then why do the girls stare?" Troy retorted, and walked towards the locker rooms before Sharpay could think of a comeback. It was only after he had changed that he realized Zeke hadn't been invited, and he was surprised to see that he felt a bit guilty about it. Not guilty enough to change anything, though.


	18. Cell Phones and Revelations Pt 1

So, um, there really isn't any excuse as to why I haven't updated in ages, except to say that I am always writing a millions stories (fanfiction and original) and all of them are forced to take the backseat at some time or another.

* * *

**Okay, before I start, I just want to answer a few questions. If you are wondering who asked them well, most likely a few people did in reviews or PMs (either that, or someone made a vague statement that I felt I needed to clarify)… Also, I don't mean to insult anyone by the questions – no one was actually rude with their questions, nor did I read them as rude statements. I'm just… blunt-ifying them here.**

**Did they **_**not **_**use a condom? Is Gabriella pregnant?**

Gabriella actually says that they _almost_ forgot to use one – they did in fact use a condom. Pregnancy isn't the plot for this story, so I feel safe saying that GABRIELLA ISN'T PREGNANT.

**Where is angry Troy? I want fighting and rivalry!**

It's coming, no worries…

**When is Troyella going to be out in the open?**

That would be telling, but I can safely say that this chapter is the beginning of the interesting stuff when it comes to everyone finding out.

**Who is going to find out about Troyella first?**

Well… I personally think it's pretty obvious, but then again I am the writer so who knows, I could be more vague than I think I am.

**URG, I don't like Sharpay! Will she be in it less?**

No. Haha, sorry, I don't mean to be frank, but I like Sharpay. Hence the reason I made her Troy's closest friend. Shar's staying until the end, at least as of right now. Maybe you'll like her better once she knows about Troyella, I don't know.

* * *

**REMINDER: **Since no one has really read this in ages, I want to remind everyone that Gabriella has Troy under the name of Chris in her cell phone, which is also the name of a gay friend of hers from outside of school. It's like her cover for him, so that she doesn't need to delete all of his texts from her phone.

Also, this is dedicated to **hollybaggins** for nominating me at the HSM Awards, which was a pretty awesome thing for her to do. So, yeah, I pretty much love her right now.

**Cell Phones and Revelations Pt. 1**

_Hope dangles on a string  
Like slow spinning redemption  
Winding in, winding out  
The shine of it has caught my eye  
And roped me in_

_So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing  
I am captivated, I am_

Vindicated  
I am selfish, I am wrong  
I am right, I swear I'm right  
Swear I knew it all along.

- Vindicated, Dashboard Confessional

**Almost 2 Weeks Later**

"Troy, honey, time to get up."

Troy groaned, rolling over and pulling his covers over his head. He could vaguely hear his mother sigh before she said, "You have ten minutes before I come back – your father needs to leave in a half hour."

He waited until his mother had left the room before grudgingly pushing back his covers and getting up. Troy's first instinct was to glance at his clock, which read 6:20 AM. It was way too early, but then again that was always what Troy thought on the first day of school.

Yes it was the first day of school. To say that Troy wasn't happy would be an understatement, although not for the reasons one might think. Sure, the school part of it wasn't fantastic, but he could deal. His problem was that the time he could spend with Gabriella would dramatically decrease.

Trudging to the bathroom, Troy took a quick shower before getting out and going back to his room in his towel. The first thing he did was call Gabriella's cell phone. She picked up on the second ring, asking breathlessly into it, "Hello?"

"Busy?" Troy asked casually, grabbing a pair of boxers out of his drawer and putting them on. He then grabbed a pair of dark wash jeans off of the floor and pulled them on.

Gabriella's voice was more relaxed as she replied, "No, I just couldn't find my phone. I'm leaving for school in, like, twenty minutes, though, and I still don't have any idea what I'm going to wear. Plus, my hair still isn't brushed, and Arcadia keeps on texting me with stupid questions about what she should wear and what we should bring to each class, like it even matters on the first day."

"I liked that shirt you wore yesterday," Troy suggested as he grabbed an Abercrombie and Fitch tee shirt out of his closet. He pulled the phone away from his ear for a second to put it on.

As soon as the phone returned to his ear, he could hear Gabriella say in a clearly frustrated tone, "It's in the washer."

"The green spaghetti strap shirt?" Troy suggested. He loved that shirt, because it showed off her collarbone and the upper part of her back perfectly. And it was just low cut enough to tease him, without being too un-Gabriella-like. Then he remembered that he wouldn't be seeing Gabriella during the day, but hundreds of West High guys would. "Never mind," he told her quickly, "that's not a good choice."

"I thought you might say that," Gabriella told him amusedly, giggling slightly. "Besides, it hardly goes with anything I own – you're not very good at this fashion stuff, which sucks because neither am I."

"Well, at least I'm trying. Most guys would hang up," Troy pointed out.

"True." Troy could practically hear Gabriella biting her lip, deep in thought about what she would wear.

Trying again, he said, "Why don't you just wear sweatpants and a t-shirt, or whatever? Who cares what people think?"

"I don't really," Gabriella said, which Troy kind of doubted. It was true in a way that Gabriella was a rather independent person who didn't care what other people thought; she just wasn't as much of this type of person as Troy was. "But I don't really love the thought of getting a detention for breaking the dress code."

"Okay, okay," Troy sighed, and Gabriella could picture him holding his hands up in surrender. He paused before adding, "My last idea is just jeans with some t-shirt. If you don't like that idea, then I give up."

"That could work…"

They were both silent for a moment as Gabriella contemplated her wardrobe. She hadn't ever gotten around to back-to-school shopping. Finally she decided, "I'll wear my purple tee shirt with those new jeans I got."

"Okay," Troy said, having no idea what shirt she was talking about. "So, what time are you getting home from school?"

"Um, I think I have a short Scholastic Decathlon meeting – just a fifteen-minute sort of thing, since we don't need any new members. After that Taylor's coming over to do homework. I could come over your house after that, if you wanted."

"No," Troy sighed, turning away from his closet and shoving some shoes on his feet. "My dad will be home. Could I come over your house?"

"I don't know, can you be quiet?" Gabriella teased.

Troy blushed, remembering a day the week before when Gabriella's mom had almost caught them in a rather risqué position. "I think I can handle it. Call me when Taylor leaves, okay?"

"Okay. I love you, Superstar."

"I love you, too."

Troy reluctantly hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He stood there silently for a moment before he heard his mom calling him. Sighing, he made his way downstairs.

His mom was at the stove, frying what seemed to be French toast. Troy frowned – his mother never cooked him breakfast, because she knew that he usually ate at school since he got there so early. That was definitely one of the cons of having a father as a teacher.

"Excited for school?" Lucy asked, turning towards her son with a smile that was far too large on her face.

"Not really," Troy muttered tiredly, yawning as he took a seat on one of the barstools in his kitchen. He jumped as he felt his pocket vibrate. He considered ignoring it, but decided that it could be Gabi or Shar, neither of whom he wanted to ignore.

The caller ID said it was Chad, but Troy picked it up anyways. "Yeah?" he asked into the phone.

"Hey," Chad's voice sounded different for some reason. A bit more awkward, and maybe a bit nervous? Troy frowned. "When are you leaving for school?"

Troy checked his watch and answered with a groan, "Um, about ten minutes. Why?"

"I'll come pick you up – you can have more time to sleep, or whatever. It's on my way, anyways. And I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay," Troy said slowly, his voice rather cautious. "What time, then?"

"Twenty, twenty-five minutes, maybe?"

"Sounds good, I guess." Troy hesitated before asking, "What do you want to talk about?"

There was a beat of silence before Chad said with an air of finality, "If I told you, we'd be having the entire conversation over the phone."

Troy frowned. This should be interesting.

------

"Gabs, you ready?"

Gabriella ran a hand through her hair once more before nodding and replying, "Yeah, I'm good."

"Great," Vincent said in a rather lackluster voice. He grabbed his backpack and keys before turning to his sister and added half-heartedly, "Oh, by the way, we're driving Spencer today."

"What?" Gabriella asked, alarmed. "Why?"

Vincent gave her a strange look before saying, "His car is at the shop. What's the problem?"

"Nothing," Gabriella replied, her voice slightly higher than normal. She grabbed her messenger bag and headed out the door before Vincent could ask any other questions. Gabriella usually didn't have a problem with Spencer whatsoever. Heck, he used to be her favorite guy out of all of her brother's friends. But lately he had been acting really strange around her, and it made Gabriella feel awkward.

"Hey, so," Vincent started as he caught up to her, "the team's meeting up after school for a quick meeting about when we want to have work-outs and stuff to keep in shape, so is it okay if we meet at the car, say, a half hour after school ends?"

"Yeah, that works – I have a Scholastic Decathlon meeting." Gabriella paused. "Why do you have a meeting so early? I mean, basketball doesn't start until the end of November."

"Yeah, but still, we need to keep in shape. Usually the returning team just works out together a few days a week to make sure no one's getting lazy. Then when November comes around we start try-outs and real conditioning," Vincent explained as they got into the car.

"That's insane," Gabriella said as she shook her head. Would Troy be doing that, too?

Vincent shrugged. "We have to be ready if we're going to beat Bolton and Danforth." He tensed as he backed the car out of the driveway, as if even thinking of the East High players made him angry.

"Okay," Gabriella replied a bit meekly. She took out her iPod, but only put one of the buds in her ear, leaving the other one free to listen to Vincent's sure-to-come rant. She was kind of curious, she had to admit.

"Bolton won't know what's hit him," Vincent continued, a bite to his voice. "We're going to kick his ass; I don't care how we do it. I want to get that arrogant, disdainful look off of his face. He's such a fucking coward, letting Danforth fight all of his battles while he gets the credit."

Gabriella took a deep breath and put the other ear bud in. She didn't want to listen after all.

------

Chad just watched as his best friend opened his passenger door and got in, slamming it behind him. Troy had his backpack, Chad noted, but not a bag with basketball stuff – his dad had probably brought it and put it in his locker for him.

Ah, the pros of having a father as a teacher.

They sat in silence, neither really knowing what to say to the other. At least, that was how Chad felt. He hesitated before finally saying, "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"

Troy's lips formed a wan smile as he said dryly, "Well, that's not a very promising way to start out."

Chad frowned subconsciously. That was it – one of the many signs that Troy Bolton had changed. He talked more, smiled more. He joked around, even if it was sarcasm, it was still an improvement. And he seemed, well, happy. Chad had never really thought of Troy as happy before. Content, yes. Successful, yes. Proud, yes. But actually, truly happy? No, not really. Well, except for now. Yes, Troy had definitely changed, but was it for the better? Chad wanted to find out.

"I'm not really sure how to say this," Chad admitted as he put his car into reverse and backed out of Troy's driveway. He didn't continue until he was one the road, heading towards East High. Then he spoke again. "Look, I'm your best friend. In this weird, sort of messed-up way, we're together, in that best friend sort of way, and we have been since we were, what, five? I know you're close with Sharpay, too, but I like to think that you tell me more than you tell the average person." He smiled wryly. "Maybe you tell Sharpay more than you tell me, but I think that I'm second on the list."

"You're the same," Troy told him slowly. "You and Sharpay – you're even, to me."

"Right," Chad continued, rather business-like now. "The problem is, you don't really share much in general. So I may know more than everyone else, but I really don't know much at all."

Troy was silent, because he was right.

Taking Troy's lack of response as an agreement, Chad explained, "That doesn't mean I'm stupid though. I may not get good grades, but I do notice some things. And I noticed that you changed over the summer."

Troy opened his mouth to disagree, although he knew it was true, but Chad overran him. "We hardly ever hung out, and when we did it was like you were just waiting for it to be over because you had someplace better to be. You started to talk more, and joke around a bit more. I decided to just not comment before, but now I need to know. Because, you see, you really seem… _happy_ now. And I know you weren't before." He groaned. "God, this sounds gay, but I just want to make sure that you are, actually, happy, you know?"

They were fast approaching East High, and Troy didn't say anything until the school was in view. It was then that he said finally, "I have changed, haven't I?"

"Yeah," Chad said awkwardly, seeming surprised that Troy was being so calm. "You have."

Chad steered the car into an empty parking space near the back door in one of the special seniors-only parking spots.

Troy smiled slightly and replied, "I hadn't realized that it had been so obvious."

Chad shifted uncomfortably. "It was, kind of," he confessed. Then he asked, "You know what did it, though?"

"Yeah."

"And you're not going to tell me what it was?"

"I will, someday," Troy promised.

Chad grinned slightly and said, "I can deal with that." He was silent for a moment before shaking his head and admitting, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't in trouble, you know?" He laughed a bit sheepishly. "I don't even know what I was worried about. Drugs, maybe, or depression? I guess that doesn't even make sense, if I thought you looked happy."

Troy shook his head. "You were right before – I, I'm _happy _now." He chuckled softly before adding, "I didn't realize what I was missing out on before, but now? I don't know, but I can't imagine it getting any better than this."

Chad gave him a long look before agreeing, "Yeah, man, you've fucking changed alright." He faked disappointment and complained, "I was all ready to be the savior, too. Come flying in like superman or whatever and save the day by making you, I don't know, better and shit."

"You'll have to try again the next time I seem screwed up."

Chad laughed and they both headed towards school for the start of another year.

------

Gabriella never thought she'd be happy to arrive at school, but she was awaiting the event eagerly as she sat awkwardly in the front seat next to Vincent, with Spencer in the back. She had offered to take the backseat, since Spencer was so tall and it was probably uncomfortable for him, but he had steadfastly refused in the sort of way that caused an awkward silence.

"So, do you guys have a plan about how you're going to work out until November?" Gabriella asked, trying to pick up on the conversation she had been having with Vincent before.

She realized she failed at the silence that followed her words. Finally, Spencer cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "Er, not really. The team will probably just try and get some gym time or go to the weight room, I'm thinking."

Vincent glanced in the rearview mirror at Spencer, and then sideways at Gabriella before finally asking them, "What the hell is up with you two?" He frowned, turning suspicious. "Have you hooked up or something and don't want to tell me because you're afraid I'll freak out?"

"No!" they both exclaimed almost in unison, both answering a bit too quickly. Gabriella glanced back only to see Spencer blushing furiously, and she felt her stomach drop. He was acting like she was taken, or something. Did he know? No, he couldn't. There was no way.

Nevertheless, Gabriella couldn't help but get out of the car before it had even fully stopped, hurrying away to escape the awkwardness that was Spencer Gates as soon as she could.

Inside school, everyone was bustling around. Gabriella was always slightly intimidated and nervous on the first day of a new school year no matter how successfully she hid it, and the feeling didn't fade even though now she was an upperclassman.

Glancing down at the papers in her hand that detailed her class schedule and her locker information, Gabriella quickly made her way down the hallways to her locker. They were in alphabetical order by grade, which meant she was near Taylor and reasonably near Arcadia.

"Hey!" Arcadia squealed, bouncing up to Gabriella with four other girls behind her. She was in a dress, of all things, which made Gabriella subconsciously wrap her arms around her stomach.

"Hey," Gabriella forced a smile onto her face. The girls behind Arcadia didn't look very enthusiastic – two of them were texting, and they all looked prettier than her.

"Hey, Gabs," Gretchen offered in a chipper voice, waving. Gabriella waved back, thankful that at least one person there knew her.

"Oh, right, you know Nicole, Lia, Gretchen, and Bridget, don't you?" Arcadia said, not bother to point out which girl was which as she looped her arm through Gabriella's and they started walking towards their lockers. "We were just catching up."

"Yeah," Gabriella said, although she only knew Gretchen and Nicole. "Spencer's probably looking for you, Vincent gave him a ride this morning."

"Yeah, I'll have to look for him. What homeroom are you in?"

"Mrs. Clearwater, you?"

"Mr. Beverly, unfortunately."

"I'm in Mrs. Clearwater's, too, Gabriella," Gretchen said, walking up so that she was on Gabriella's other side. "We can walk there together."

"That's cool."

"What are you doing after school?" Arcadia interjected. "Gretchen and I were going to go out and do whatever. Spencer's in, too."

Gabriella felt unbelievably overwhelmed. She was the type of person that didn't like a full schedule – she preferred doing nothing and staying at home all day. And here she was already with a full day. So she didn't actually fell very sorry when she said, "Wish I could, but I already have plans."

Besides, she didn't exactly relish the idea of having another encounter with Spencer.

"Oh, that sucks. Tomorrow we can do something," Gretchen offered.

"Right," Gabriella said, forcing a smile onto her face.

"Hey, Cade."

Everyone turned around to see Spencer sauntering up, not missing a beat as he wrapped an arm around Arcadia. Next to him, Vincent strolled up, and neither him nor Gabriella missed the way Nicole, Gretchen, and Lia perked up slightly. It wasn't their fault, really, Gabriella told herself. If he wasn't her brother, Gabriella was sure she'd probably be interested, too.

"Hey, Gabs, what was with the running off on us?" Vincent asked.

Gabriella tried to play cool, shrugging and teasing, "Didn't really want to be accosted by the girls that were sure to flock to you as soon as you entered the doors."

"Ooh, SAT word," Gretchen exclaimed playfully, giving Gabriella a small nudge.

"Yeah, well," Vincent interjected, "Mom called me – we're all going out to dinner tonight for a "Montez dinner"."

Gabriella winced at the air quotes he made, but all of the other girls seemed to find it hilarious. "Do we have to?"

"What do you think?" Vincent retorted, making a face. "Anyways, I got to run so what about you text me after your Scholastic whatever meeting is done and we can go home?"

"Sure," Gabriella agreed, and then quickly added, "This is my locker, I'll see you later!" She quickly waved to everyone and escaped the claustrophobia-inducing pack of "friends".

Gabriella was thankful to get away.

------

Troy Bolton was very lucky that he had Sharpay Evans as a friend.

At least, that was how Sharpay saw it. What other friend would talk to Principal Matsui to make sure that Troy's locker was right next to hers (an extremely prime spot, seeing as it was close in proximity not only to his homeroom, but also to the cafeteria and gym). And speaking of homeroom, Sharpay was certainly the only friend of his that bothered to ensure that he was in homeroom with all of his closest friends, despite the fact he was a junior. There were always a few homerooms each year that had students in different years, and Ms. Darbus's was one of them, which was why that was the homeroom Troy, Chad, Zeke, Jason, Ryan, Sharpay, Raleigh, and Kelsi always had. Sharpay had even brought Troy an extra shirt, in case it didn't match her purple ensemble.

It didn't, she noted as soon as he walked in. Of course Troy would choose to wear a tee shirt, of all things, on the first day of school. Troy, she decided, really needed more lessons on fashion. That was why the first thing she said to him that morning was, "You look absolutely hideous. Don't you care about what you look like?"

"I knew you'd bring me something," Troy said, flashing a quick smile in her direction as he proceeded to take a slip of paper out of his pocket with his locker combination on it and start to twirl the dial on the lock. Sharpay gave him a strange look. He'd been doing that lately – giving her these small smiles. Almost immediately after, he'd become more closed off than ever, almost as if the displays of emotion had been accidents. Sharpay didn't quite know what to make of it.

She grabbed a deep purple and gray wide striped Ralph Lauren polo from out of her large Gucci bad and held it out for him to see, saying, "Just change into now – there's hardly anyone around." She glanced at her locker, where she had already placed her after-school bag, equipped with a change of clothes in case there would be drama after school. She doubted it, since it was the first day of school, but there was no harm in being careful.

Troy examined it for a moment, debating with himself. Sure, it was purple, but it was a dark purple, and the gray made it better. All in all, a shirt that Troy had no objection with. Shrugging, he glanced around to make sure there were no teachers before pulling his current shirt over his head and tossing it into his now-open locker.

Sharpay smirked slightly at three girls across the hall. They were openly staring at Troy's bare chest. He was, she reflected, rather good-looking, but she found it kind of weird to think of Troy that way. He had never been that guy to her. He was like a brother in some ways. Deciding not to comment, she handed him the shirt she had chosen out as she said, "God, you're so lucky you have me. I just, like, totally saved the day. Especially since it's the first day of school."

"You're like a superhero," Troy said wryly.

"You bet your ass I am," Sharpay said, smirking. "Where's Chad?"

"In the bathroom – we just got here. He drove me this morning," Troy explained, shutting his locker shut. He had nothing to put away, after all.

Sharpay nodded, shutting her locker as well. "Now what classes do you have?"

Troy wordlessly handed over his schedule to her, and Sharpay compared it to hers with a critical eye, her face businesslike and set. Immediately she announced, "This is wrong – I called at least a week ago and had your homeroom changed to Ms. Darbus, not Mrs. Coleridge."

"Maybe you're slipping," Troy suggested, his voice mock-serious. Sharpay lifted her head to give him a withering look before suggesting, "Maybe they forgot to switch it."

"Or maybe this Mrs. Coleridge person said no way in hell," Troy pointed out. "Who is she? I've never heard of her before." That wasn't technically a lie, he reasoned with himself, but he did have a fair idea of who the teacher was. How many Coleridges could be out there, anyways?

"Me neither, must be new," Sharpay responded thoughtfully. "I heard there was a Mr. Cole-something coming. Maybe it was a woman and I just forgot. Or maybe there are two of them." She shrugged. "I don't know. We'll figure it out, though. Now let me see about everything else. We have to at least have French together."

After a few moment of silence, Sharpay handed Troy back his schedule and said, "Well, we have homeroom and lunch together, obviously. Besides that all we have is English and French. Free, too, but I'll be in the theater then. You should do theater instead of gym, that way we'd have one more class together."

Troy shook head and told her flatly, "No, my dad would kill me. Besides, gym is an easy A."

"Well, what are you doing during free, then?" Sharpay wrinkled her nose. "More basketball?"

Sharpay was obsessed with theater and acting and singing – she was one of those girls. The thing was, she was actually good. Troy suspected she could actually get somewhere in life. Already, Julliard and Berklee and all of those places were knocking on her door. It humbled Troy, to be with Sharpay, because really what was basketball compared to everything Sharpay did?

Troy shrugged and said, "Yeah, I'll probably be lifting weights or whatever Chad's up to doing."

"Did someone say my name?"

Sharpay rolled her eyes and turned to face Chad Danforth, whose shirt was almost as hideous as Troy's had been. Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "Yeah, we were commiserating about how ugly that thing on your head is."

Chad gave her the finger and turned his attention to Troy, asking, "Hey, dude, I forgot to ask you earlier, but weights during free?"

"Sure," Troy said, exchanging a look with Sharpay, who was smirking. "Let's get to homeroom."

"Sounds good," Chad said as they started walking. "Man, it's fucking insane how Shar always gets you a locker right next to hers."

"I know, I'm pretty damn amazing," Sharpay agreed, smirking.

"And yours is right down the hall, near Zeke's," Troy added. "That's not bad at all."

"It's alphabetical order," Sharpay explained. "Zeke and Chad being close to each other was a fluke – and they really aren't actually close, because they're across the hall from one another. Yours, though," she said, giving Troy a meaningful look, "I traded with Ryan's."

"Why would Ryan agree to that?" Chad asked, furrowing his brow in befuddlement.

"He agreed back when he was with Raleigh."

"And you made him go through with it?" Chad winced in sympathy for Ryan. "That's tough even for you."

"Whatever, let's just go to homeroom."

They reached homeroom with two minutes to spare, according to Sharpay's watch. She pushed past Chad and Ryan and strutted in. Troy, feeling his pocket vibrate, hung back. Walking in slowly, he read the text._ Sorry I can't hang out tonight after all. I have a family dinner thing. Tomorrow? _It was from Gabriella.

Troy fought back a groan. Coach Montez's family dinners were the bane of his existence. Every now and again, the overworked mother would announce that she wanted the entire family (meaning her, Gabriella, and Vincent) to have dinner as a family and learn about what was going on in each others' lives. It was her way of feeling like a successful mother. Troy hated them.

Troy stopped in the doorway and leaned against it in an unintentionally sexy way – at least, that was what he gathered a few moments later when he looked up and three different groups of girls were looking at him – as he sent a text back. _Definitely tomorrow. Love you. _He shut his phone and walked into the room, sitting on the desk in front of Chad and asking him casually, "Hey, want to do some one-on-one after the team meeting?"

"Yeah, awesome," Chad grinned. "You know we never actually play on the first day of school, it's just getting numbers to figure out how many teams there will be and all that shit."

"Right, which is a waste of our time because everyone knows that so many people play basketball even thirds gets cut," Zeke added.

"I know man," Jason said, shaking his head. Troy glanced up, he hadn't even realized Jason had come in. Jason walked up to Troy and said, "Dude, my seat."

"Whatever man," Troy said, getting up. "I'm headed to my homeroom."

"Uh, what do you call this?" Zeke asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing around the classroom.

"Troy's schedule still has his old homeroom on it – obviously it wasn't changed after my call. He'll be back here tomorrow," Sharpay replied confidently. Troy resisted the urge to gag as she walked over to Zeke with a big smile on her face and sat on his desk, pulling him in by the shirt for a long, drawn-out kiss.

"That, man, is my cue to leave," Troy told Chad, giving him a high five before grabbing his backpack and walking out, unaware of the lull in conversation in the room he was leaving, each of them wondering where he was going.

------

"How many minutes before homeroom actually starts?" Gabriella asked, looking at Taylor with a trace of annoyance. She slid her cell phone across her desk from one hand to another absent-mindedly.

"Ten minutes, but it's good to be punctual."

"Whatever you say, Tay," Gabriella teased, and Taylor laughed. Gabriella got up and continued, "I'm going to the bathroom, be right back."

"Okay, sure, leave me to sit here like a loser," Taylor retorted, but it was said jokingly, too. Gabriella laughed

Taylor waited until her friend had walked out of the room before her gaze landed on Gabriella's cell phone. It was sitting innocently on top of her desk, which made it that more alluring. To look, or not to look?

She held out for maybe ten seconds before reaching for it.

Quickly, Taylor scanned through the newest texts, frowning as she realized all of them were from some guy named Chris. This was particularly interesting because Taylor didn't know any boys named Chris at West High well – and there weren't any on the basketball team, which meant whoever it was probably didn't go to West High. The only guys Gabriella really talked to at school were the ones in her classes, the guys on the Scholastic Decathlon team, and her brother's friends.

Taylor narrowed her eyes, not quite sure what to do now. It was a major invasion of privacy, she knew. But then again, Gabriella was supposed to be her best friend (even though Arcadia had been doing a pretty good job of taking Gabriella all for herself lately), and best friends were supposed to tell each other everything. And Gabriella hadn't been doing that by a long shot.

_Well, first things first… _

Taylor didn't care how wrong it was – she pulled out her cell phone and copied Chris's number into her phone… _just in case_, she told herself.

And it was a good thing that she did that first, because a moment later Gabriella walked through the door again, and Taylor put Gabriella's phone back where it belonged just in time.

Maybe she'd text this Chris guy. She hadn't decided yet. But, still, it was a good thing to have.

------

**So, the next chapter is probably more than halfway done… and there's major drama, if I remember correctly *evil grin*. Well, maybe not major, exactly – but there's the potential for it, at least.**


End file.
